Legacy, The First Quests
by Dego-Flamron
Summary: This is a story written as much by the characters as by myself. Therefore, I have given them credit for it, and even top billing. I call Legacy a fanfiction, because of the many references to various stories, as well as the overall style of my book.
1. The First Meeting

Legacy

My First Quest

Written by

Andrew (B.) Goodwin

Edited by

Andrew (B.) Goodwin

Thought up, written, and published in the U.S. of A.

Copyright © 2009

To Emily Heather Chourm. As Shakespeare said, she is my muse, the patron of my paper, and the reason for ink.

Thank you.

Section 1

Aquinis

Chapter 1, The First Meeting

The _Restless_, an _E.O.V._ destroyer, trailed behind a Transport, named the _Maryland_. The _Maryland_ was identified as a U.S. Man O' War, but compared to the _Restless_ it was more of a tug boat than a naval vessel. The decks of both ships were deserted. In fact, if you took away the storm, no sound could be heard but the sirens. The _Restless_ had its guns trained upon the smaller but quicker _Maryland._ However, even though the _Maryland_ was faster, it was performing erratic maneuvers, which slowed its progress. And so, the chase ran on into the night.

During the night, the wind picked up. This was not unexpected, and naturally, it was not surprising that the waves began to get higher. Then it began to rain, and the waves got even higher. Soon, the storm became a typhoon. The clouds became thick and grey as the downpour increased. The sun was visible for a minute or two as it peaked over the horizon, but it was soon blotted out by the continuous downpour.

Sanya looked out the window onto the town in Aquinis (ah-KEY-nis). She looked over the capital city with bright blue eyes, brushing a wisp of dark-brown hair out of her face. Then she turned towards the sunrise, which was only marred by a small, but concentrated rainstorm far out to sea.

_I love getting up this early," she thought to herself, "it's so pretty when the sun comes up._ Sanya looked over at her brother's door. _I would never have believed he could miss all this and not care. What's an hour or two of sleep compared to all this beauty? How can Rocky just sleep his life away like that?_ Sanya shrugged. _Well, who can understand boys anyway?_ Sanya sighed and went back into her room.

Sanya turned and gathered up all of her homework. "Oh, no!" Sanya moaned. "That's the last of Revelation! That means," Sanya let out another groan, "we have to review the Neo Exodus…again!" Sanya grumbled, "If I reviewed that section once, I most likely have reviewed it an inestimable number of times!" She looked over at the Good Book on her dresser. Sanya sighed. "Sorry, Iam, (I-um)" She said, as she rolled her eyes upward. "I know I fail to be the best Christian in the world…or the best Christian in Aquinis…but…" Sanya's shoulders tensed and she clenched her fists, but then relaxed. A faint smile came to her face and she shrugged as she said, "I guess I just need a change of pace. Amen." Sanya took a deep breath, straitened her papers, and placed them in her canvas bag. She slung the bag over her shoulder. As she descended the staircase, a whisper, hardly audible echoed in the back of her mind. It said _Iam has a sense of humor. _

The _Maryland_ was slowly but surely plowing through the raging sea. The ship was pitching and rocking back and forth. It was nearly lying on one side one minute and then nearly riding up on its prow the next.

Rolling around in the cargo hold was a boy in his teens. He had blue eyes, light brown hair, and a green tint to his face. As he tumbled, tennis shoes over head, he reached out on both sides to try to stop his tumble. He managed to grab a hold of one of the rope nets keeping the wooden crates from sliding around. He got his feet under him and stood up, panting heavily. After he wiped his mouth, he took a deep breath. _What a way to go,_ he mused as a crazed grin came to his face. I was a_ soldier by fifteen, a veteran of the black squad by sixteen and a seasick deck hand by seventeen. Now I don't think I'll even get one of those wooden boards with Buck Goodwin across the top._ He paused for a second or two, and then threw up again. Without looking, he touched a lump under his shirt. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more," Buck said out loud, "but I did try, didn't I? That has to count for something." The ship lurched, and Buck swore as his head slammed once more against the hull. "Shaz! Why don't you just kill us and get it over with!" Buck yelled, as he rubbed the growing number of eggs on his head.

The _E.O.V.S. Restless_ did nothing but follow the _Maryland_, as it careened on the furious waves. The captain stood upon the deck, a spyglass in his hand, held behind his back. His first officer looked at him questioningly.

"What are your orders, captain?" he asked, his eyes shifting nervously. "Shall we load the long guns? We have enough EMP rounds to put its engines out of commission."

"No, Mr. Hajime," The captain said, trying to peer through the curtain of rain. "We don't know what kind of weapon systems they might have. They may have some anti-targeting software onboard, which would result in all our EMPs being wasted." The captain started pacing up and down the bridge. "No, we wait and follow."

And so, the _Restless_ continued following the_ Maryland_ as the sun rose higher in the sky before them

Over in Sanya's home, the boy in the next room was sleeping soundly, with the sheets covering his head and leaving his feet exposed. Then Sanya came into the room and yelled, "Alright, Rocky, your time's up. School will commence with or without you in approximately one half hour." He remained motionless. Sanya sighed, "Fine. I'll wake you up the uncivilized way." So saying, Sanya began to shake Rocky.

Rocky was only vaguely aware that he was being shaken violently by someone.

"Wake up," that someone was saying, "It's time for us to break fast."

He let out something between a moan and a groan. _All right, _he said in his mind, _I know that I need to get up, but do you have to do that? I hate it when you rattle me so. _

Sanya only shook harder and pulled the sheets of woolly bully wool off the bed.

"Grumble, Mumble, Grumble," Rocky muttered.

Sanya grinned, "What did you say?" Rocky just pulled the sheets over his head again. Sanya frowned. "Get up already!" Rocky just rolled over. Sanya jumped and sat on him.

"OOF!" was the sound of the air being knocked out of his lungs, just before she started tickling Rocky.

"This is what happens to people who are loud-snoring and lazy bums!"

Rocky, after realizing it was just his sister, rolled on top of her. "Muff with fat," he grumbled. "Stop it, I'm up…"_ Alright,_ he said mentally, if not actually, _I'm ready. Do what you will with me, I don't care_. Rocky looked around. "Sanya?" he said weakly, "where did you go?"

"Gerrof off muff," she told him.

_Well, I guess I'm not going back to bed, so I'd best get out of it before she calls for mom_. "Fine!" he barked as he tumbled out of bed and off of Sanya. "I'm up, I'm up."

Sanya moaned as she rolled off the bed and onto Rocky. She sat up, still on top of Rocky, and massaged her back. "I wish I didn't have to wake you up every morning."

Rocky shoved Sanya off and shuffled over to the coat rack and the door as he wiped the sleepy dust from his eyes. "Don't worry," Rocky mumbled, "you'll be sleeping in as soon as you get to be my age."

"Hey, remember I'm only about nine months younger than you, Shorty."

"I can't help it if I take after Mom. Besides, I'm not supposed to have my growth spurt until I reach eighteen."

"Well, if you don't grow at all in three years, I don't think growing will be possible at that stage at all."

Rocky shrugged as he pulled on his brown-stained cotton vest. Incidentally, it was almost identical to Sanya's. "Well, if I don't, I suppose I can hold onto the bed posts and you can stretch me out when you drag me out of bed."

"Ha ha, very funny," Sanya said as she pushed him faster down the stairs. "Well, I hope I don't have to do this for much longer."

"Good morning sleepy heads," An older man said, as he turned to Rocky and Sanya. "You better hurry up. If you don't eat quickly, all the good part-time jobs will be taken for the day, perhaps even for the week." He grinned, "Perhaps you should just skip the meal and go straight to the notice board."

"Daddy!" Sanya and Rocky moaned in unison. Before them on the table was a skillet filled to the brim with scrambled eggs mixed with mushrooms and chopped scallops.

"You know very well that eggs are my favorite," Sanya huffed as she crossed her arms. Rocky shuffled to a chair at the table.

"How come your favorite things are always expensive?"

"My favorite things are not always expensive!"

"Give me one thing that you like that isn't expensive, besides the sun and the stars and all those sorts of things."

"Well… let me think for a minute."

Without waiting for Sanya to continue, Rocky asked, "Where's mom?"

"I think she left for work," their father said, "probably while you were still in bed."

"Yeah," Sanya whispered, "Lazy bum."

"What? Why are you guys picking on me, I haven't done anything."

"Exactly," Sanya said, poking Rocky's arm with a finger. "And I know what I like that doesn't cost a thing; water."

"So, water doesn't cost anything, not with a thousand cubic foot well in the middle of Lester square. It couldn't cost anything unless some idiot merchant decided to put it in jars. Then the only reason why anyone would buy it would be for the jars."

"So? If it doesn't cost anything, it isn't expensive. Still, do you know if they sell jarred water? That sounds intriguing. Perhaps I'd even get some!"

Rocky just shook his head as his father laughed and Sanya started eating again.

Minutes later, they made their way along the coast, toward the center of town, and a colossal building in the center. It had a dome roof resting upon another dome. The upper dome was ten meters above the lower, supported by columns approximately three meters in width. Situated upon columns five meters or so in length, the lower dome was about seventy- five meters in length. Because of the immense weight, an inner row as well as an outer row of columns ran around the bottom dome. In the morning light, the mother of pearl tiles were tinted cyan, while the marble columns looked as if they were made out of the purest of pearl.

"The House of Knowledge always seems to make you happy to live here, does it not?" Sanya asked Rocky, grinning from ear to ear.

"No," Rocky replied, a dour expression on his face.

"Why not?" Sanya asked, her grin disappearing.

"It just means I have to memorize some more facts I'll never use."

Sanya stopped and swatted Rocky, sending his knitted, woolen cap flying. "You are so unappreciative of the immense amount of knowledge you can put to use. Why, with all the knowledge of science, and the wisdom of the Good Book, we can solve all the problems in the world."

"I'm not being unappreciative." Rocky said in his tired tone of voice. "I like being smart…"(Sanya snorted at this part) …but I'm not going to memorize a lot of useless facts." He walked over to his hat, bent down, and scooped it off. He looked his hat over and wiped the dirt off as he said, "Face it Sanya, I'm going to be a fisherman, just like my father, and his father before him. You may become a teacher, but I'm not going to be using half of the information I have to memorize."

"Why do they always say 'like my father and his father before him'?" Sanya wondered, a dreamy look in her eye and a smile playing upon her countenance. "I mean, would it be better if we just said, 'like my father and my grandfather'? …or perhaps something like 'as my father was doing and his father, my grandfather, was doing even before his son, my father was doing what I, his son and grandson would be doing'? I suppose that might be a little long, but at least it gets the gist of what you really mean… I'm not sure, what do you think?"

Rocky smacked his forehead, let his palm drop over one eye and shook his head. "No, I don't think so. If you were to teach everyone here, they'd give up trying to learn at all…" Rocky paused and stared off into space.

"And what does that mean, Rocky…Rocky? Answer me Rocky!"

Rocky hadn't responded to her calls. He was too interested by what he saw what was directly behind Sanya. A crowd of people were gathered around by a heap of scrap metal that looked like it had once been a ship. However, rare as a metal ship was in Aquinas, that was not what had attracted so much attention. The crowd seemed to be gathered around one point of the beach a few meters south of the junk heap.

"Rocky! Look at me when I talk to you!" Sanya reached out to spin Rocky around, but stopped as soon as she saw what he saw on the sea shore. "Could that be…?" Sanya started to say.

"…Castaways." Rocky finished. "I'll try to see if I can find anyone who knows about…"

Before Rocky could finish his sentence, Sanya had nearly bowled Rocky base over apex. She started running toward the crowd, shouting, "Yay! Somebody crashed! Hello new classmates!"

"Oh…dear," Rocky groaned as he pulled himself up. "I hope she doesn't say anything stupid…well, I hope she doesn't say anything else."

Sanya elbowed her way through the crowd, stopping once when her satchel got caught between two people. "Hold on…excuse me…I'm coming…pardon me…sorry…I seem to be almost there…please be careful, that's my hair, mister!"

Sanya broke through the crowd as Rocky began to enter it. "Sanya!" Rocky shouted after her. He sighed. _She's either out of hearing range, ignoring me, or both._ He slowed down long enough to ask a few people, "What's happened here?"

"A ship crashed!" One man said.

"You mean beached," Another argued.

"No, I mean crashed. She rode up on a wave and crashed on the beach. Don't know what she was carrying, but she exploded in a big ball of flame!"

"No it wasn't! It was more of a ball of lighting. What is it with you and balls of fire? Are you a pyromaniac or something?"

"What if I am, what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing, but wasn't it kind of stupid to move onto a small strip of land surrounded by water?"

Rocky moved on as the two men started arguing again.

From what he could see through the crowd, there were two survivors of the wreckage, a man and a boy. A pile of grey matter to the North cluttered the beach. Rocky instantly shuddered. He could imagine what the grey masses were.

Sanya didn't move past the small fence/tape that had been erected by a few Healers. "Hurry up!" Sanya mumbled impatiently. "I know you want to check them for pathogenic viruses, but Healers don't have to move slower than anyone and everyone else…"

The Healer next to the older survivor stood up and said, "He's alright. Any illnesses he may possess are non-contagious bacterium. However, I'd like some of you to help me take this man to the infirmary; He seems to have some bad bruises which might need to be monitored…"

As soon as the words had left the man's mouth, the crowd swarmed the captain. They started spouting questions left and right until a moderate hum arose from the mass of human bodies.

Buck couldn't help smiling from one side of his mouth. _Strange,_ he thought to himself, as he looked from the crowd of living people next to the grey, lifeless flesh heap that had been the crew. _What separates the two, I wonder. What's the difference between the two? Why did the crew have to die, while all these people just sat back and watched? _Buck listened to the hum of the crowd as he sat sprawled out on the beach. Buck looked up and the man hovering above him. _Who are you anyway? _The man took out a wooden spike and put it in Buck's ear. _What's he doing with that chopstick? Oh, I get it. He's checking me out for any foreign diseases. He's a medic I'll bet, and soon I'll have someone in my face asking me where I've been and who I am, well, I'm not going to be caught unaware. _

"This man's clean of any…" he started, turning to face the crowd, "…Oh… It seems like no one's listening… Well, in any case," the medic said, turning back to Buck, "You're free to go anywhere you want now."

_Oh? _Buck thought, _Is that it? You're letting me go that easily? No questions whosoever? That's kinda fishy, don't you think?_

"Of course," the man continued, "It would be nice if you would go to the governor's house or even to the House of Knowledge to tell your story to the council of Aquinis, otherwise known as the Elders."

_Aha! Now you start with the threats if I decline, right? _Buck stood up and wiped the sand off of his cargo pants. "I think I'll do what I think is best. Now, where's the Captain?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, if the 'Captain's' the other man, who was shipwrecked with you, he's being taken to the infirmary. He apparently sustained more than a few bruises and perhaps even a broken bone or two in this unfortunate accident."

_Yeah, you've started threatening me, but you've gotten a head start on the captain, haven't you? _"What happened, did he decline too?"

"Oddly enough, yes," the medic said, "How did you know?"

"I don't know, I suppose I guessed." Buck said sarcastically. "I think I'll see him later, right now I'm leaving before some 'accident' happens to me."

"Well, in case you change your mind, the House of Knowledge is the largest building on the Island. You can't miss it. The governor's house is nearby to the House of Knowledge, and they're both made from imported stone. Just drop by either of those two buildings, and I'm sure you'd be ushered inside right away."

_Yeah, I'll bet._ Buck thought to himself, _Now, you'll probably put a tail on me. I'd better watch out for anyone who starts following me._

As soon as Buck had made this mental note, Sanya started for him. "Hi!" she shouted as she ran over, waving wildly. _Well, he's a boy, but oh, dear, he does look very solemn and serious. I wonder, will he be any fun at all, or will I have to prod him?_

Buck looked around to see who had spoken. _Oh, so this is the torturer slash interrogator. _He eyed this new girl, looking her up and down. _She doesn't look like much, but I can't afford to underestimate her._ "Hey."

Sanya frowned. _Hey? What kind of greeting is that? _"Hay?" She asked, sincerely, "Is that how you greet each other in your country?"

Buck raised an eyebrow. _Well, this is a different approach. What does that mean? Obviously, she's admitting to being from another nation, which is completely opposite from the 'we're the same as you' strategy. She must be employing another sort of strategy, but what is it?_

Sanya continued, "Because…to me that phrase is somewhat confusing. Where did that phrase come from? Did it start out as a blessing like 'may the hay always be in your manger' or 'may hay be sweet for your horses'? If it was either way, I fail to see how it would the proper way to start off with an island dweller like myself. You see, we have little hay around here. True, there are a few orchards to the south on some of the larger Aquinian Islands, but that's about it.

_Either that or she's a complete moron,_ Buck added, rolling his eyes as he considered this thought.

"So, where do you think the phrase originated?"

_Damn!_ Buck swore _I'll bet that she's trying to read me right now. That also would explain why she's so frigging happy! Crap! She's good. I can't tell what she's thinking or what kind of strategy to employ. Those Commies are sure crafty. Well, two can play at that game. I just have to try to be as happy as her._ "I think it came about from Hey-low or something like that."

_He's so nervous, _Sanya thought, her eyebrows knitting together for a moment or two. _Oh, I'm so stupid, he's just lost his friends and he's lost in a foreign land. I'm going to have to try to cheer him up. _Her smile broadened. "Well, as long as you have to be here, why not come and stay at my house?"

"Well…I don't know…" Buck said as he scratched his chin. _Oh, so this is the girl-next-door strategy, is it? This is going to be tough. I mean, she may not be the prettiest girl I know, and she's probably not the best these commies have to offer in the way of sex appeal… but she's nothing to spit at either… Well, I'm out of practice anyway… _"I mean, wouldn't your parents object?" _Now she'll try to entice me, I'll bet._

"No, I'm sure they would be happy to have you stay at our house."

_Just what I thought she'd say._ "I don't know…"

"Aw, come on over. Please?"

"Um…" _Next she'll insist._

"I insist."

_See?_

"Please?" Sanya asked in a high pitched whine as she gave Buck puppy-dog eyes.

_Well, why not? I suppose going with her won't hurt anything. _"I guess if it's alright with your mom and dad, I could… Sure, why not?"

"Oh, thank you!" Sanya squealed, almost jumping in place. _Yes! He's coming to my house! That should teach P.J.! I soon shall have a new friend, and P.J. can just…stew in his jealousy. _"Alright, you see that cottage down there?" She pointed to the south-eastern edge of the island. "That's my house. I suppose I should ask my parents when I see them. Until then, how about you accompany my brother, Rocky, and myself?"

_Hmm…Rocky…Rocky…must be scraping the bottom of the barrel to get a name like Rocky. Very un-original. _"Sure."

"Alright," Sanya said grinning and turning around. _Finally, things are turning around for me._

"Wait!"

Sanya turned around, her smile drooped. "Oh…have you…have you changed your mind?"

"No, but," Buck couldn't help chuckling, "haven't you forgotten something?"

"Forgotten what?"

"Like, for one thing, who the heck are you?"

"Oh, I'm Sanya. Did I forget that?" Sanya laughed awkwardly as she scratched the back of her head.

"Well, yeah." _What kind of foreign agent is she? Perhaps I was mistaken, or I underestimated her, or… I don't know._

"And how would you like to be called?"

"Eh? What?" Buck snapped suddenly out of his musings.

"What's your name?"

"Oh yeah, my name's Buck. Buck Goodwin."


	2. Buck, from Elsewhere

Chapter II

Buck, From Elsewhere

After the typhoon had subsided, the captain of the _Restless _barked, "What happened to them?" and climbed to his feet.

His first officer, Hajime, replied, "It looks as if they're beached on that small island, sir." He pointed to the strip of beach the _Maryland _now rested on.

"Let me see!" The captain said as he pushed the first officer out of the way. The captain raised his binoculars and scanned the shore. _There was no Island here before,_ he thought to himself,_ and I'm sure that there were no Islands in this part of the ocean, according to our charts._ "Take us in for a closer look!" He yelled.

"Sir," the first officer piped up, meekly, "The ship was badly damaged during the storm. Most of our electrical systems were rendered inoperable due to a lightning strike, and all of our weapons are either jammed or unusable."

"These ships today are pieces of rubbish!" The captain hissed through his teeth. "Alright, tow us to an uninhabited area, just until we can repair our long guns." He bashed a fist on the control panel. "Once this ship is battle worthy, we will wipe out this American outpost!"

Rocky walked slowly behind as Sanya pushed Buck a little harder. "Please make haste!" she pleaded. "We will be late if our current velocity and acceleration does not change."

"I'm assuming you want me to go faster, right?" Buck replied, with a mixture of confusion and lethargy.

"That is an approximation of my previous statement."

"Yeah…I'll take that as a yes, please."

Rocky shook his head. _Apparently, grammar is not held in high regard in his country. Well, it is Elsewhere, after all. Since he is the first to arrive since the Neo-Exodus, I imagine that there will be a lot of talk upon that subject. People will make up stories, and he will have to either confirm them or deny them. I still don't believe that he is a noble. True, he is paler than most of us, however, he is not very much so. Also, his clothes indicate that he is, at most, among the middle class. Furthermore, I believe that…_

"Rocky, hurry on ahead, will you?" Sanya asked, looking over her shoulder. "You could explain the reason why we're going to be a bit late."

Rocky growled back, "Ask miss Leah yourself! You're the one who decided to invite this outlander to join with us." He trudged ahead, wrapping his thin cloak tighter around his chest as he crossed his arms.

Buck turned and asked, "What's his problem?"

Sanya shrugged, "It might be anything or nothing, it's hard to tell sometimes. You males fail to be the clearest of persons at times. Perhaps one individual of your gender and approximate age could do us females a favor by translating the more frequent quirks that you, which is to say males in general, acquire."

Buck winced at the torrent of words. "I might need a dictionary for that one," he admitted out loud.

"Well, I think 'manual' would be a more accurate term, but a dictionary would be a nice addition." Then Sanya's eyes widened. "What am I doing, we need to get to class immediately, if not sooner." She grabbed Buck and started running down a brick boulevard.

_Man, I'm starting to wonder, is this place a Communist country or a fairy-land? It's like I stepped back to the nineteenth or twentieth century. I haven't heard talk like that since my grandfather…_ Buck stopped his train of thought suddenly, but not before a single tear escaped. Luckily, or unfortunately, it remained unobserved. _Hah, where did that come from? I thought I'd spent every one… _

A large grey-white granite building loomed in front of them as they made their way up the street.

Rocky trudged on, looking at his feet as we walked.

Sanya glanced up and felt a warm glow in her heart. _This is our triumph. No doubt, this Outlander, Buck, has seen great buildings before, but none like this. We carved the four great columns out of the cliff face by hand. We made them without any blemishes, making them without joint or crack. And then we erected them with little more than our hands. Yes, this is our monument, our testament to our existence. So long as this remains, there will be those to remember us._

Buck looked in wonder at the edifice, and pondered, _how could anyone waste so much time on one project? This obviously took a while to make, and I would think that these people had better things to do. What is it with men and monuments? Yes, this will last for a thousand years, but will anyone remember a name on a stone pillar? Is our existence so fragile to need such things to be remembered? _

Sanya turned to Buck and gave him a stern look. "Now, I'm not sure if you have anything such as school from where you come, but here the teacher, Miss Leah, is to be respected at all times, do you understand?"

"Erm…Yes?" Buck offered, glancing at the large crowd of teenagers sitting on the stone steps. "Who are those guys?"

"Hmm?" Sanya followed his gaze. "Oh, those are the students of this fine school. Later on in the day, the University students will be using the building, but mornings are reserved for the Higher Schooling Students." Sanya walked over to Rocky, and asked in a lower voice, "Rocky, why are we waiting outside?"

"The Elders are having a meeting to discuss the terms of 'Immigration' for our new arrivals."

Buck strolled up, with his arms behind his head as he stretched. _The "Elders" must be their government officials. Now I get to see if this is a Communistic government or just some lame knock off._ "So, how does the Council of Elders go about this kind of thing?"

"Well…" Sanya started, as she blushed and shifted her weight. "You see…"

"There haven't been any occurrences similar to this," Rocky finished curtly, "Ever."

"I suppose the Elders might take a while discussing this matter," A random boy said. "Then again, since this hasn't happened before, they'll probably take a week or so establishing some lengthy procedure."

Buck looked over at the new commentator. He was a boy taller than Rocky, but smaller than himself, with a tangle of dirty blonde hair on his head, a grin plastered on his face, and with his back to one of the enormous columns. He was resting his head against his hands, which he had crossed behind his head, and his legs were crossed on the flagstones. _Basically, a picture of laziness_ Buck commented under his breath.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, P.J.," Rocky chuckled, more for show than for anything funny. "There can't be any New Laws until Tom Robinson can come over from Quanah to fill in his dad's position. Until then, they don't have the required thirteen members present."

_Alright, I was wrong,_ Buck said to himself_ this place sounds like a joint monarchy so far. Let's see if I'm right. _"So, this… Tom Robinson, he's filling in for his dead father, right?"

"Yeah," P.J. said, slowly shifting his eyes so he could see Buck.

"So, how did this Elders group get started, anyway?"

"'When the survivors landed on this isle, they beheld paradise.'" Sanya said, reciting some text in a monotone. "'Some settled on the isle, while the others were not content. They traveled to the mainland…' Then I can't remember the rest until, 'They arranged themselves into twelve villages upon the coast, and one Capitol on this first isle. They called themselves Aquinians. And from each village came one representative and they met with the mayor of the Capital City. The Mayor met with each man, and they elected him Head Chairman, and each of the representatives became an Elder. From them came all the Laws of Aquinis…' it goes on from there ad infinitum."

"Everybody in Aquinis knows that!" P.J. replied, sitting up. "I had to memorize that section of the texts before I could walk…"

"I don't think it was before you could walk," Sanya interrupted. "Usually, children aren't able to pronounce words well enough to use such grandiloquent words as this section contains."

"Did you get all of that?" Buck asked Rocky in a whisper.

"Not entirely," Rocky replied, his mood lifting. "And I'm all that sure that P.J. was able to 'get all of that,'" Rocky jerked his head towards Sanya and P.J. "Just watch and be entertained."

"…You also know that children that young are still entirely in their parent's care. They don't begin their educational process until around five years of age, and then they're simply reading and memorizing the Four Books. Furthermore…"

"Sanya," P.J. said, slowly shaking his head. "I didn't mean literally before I could walk."

"Well, then you could have said something to that effect…"

"Why are you protecting this guy anyway?" P.J. asked and then he pointed an accusatory finger at Buck. "And who is he? I've never seen him before." A low and hushed murmur in the crowd of students seemed to agree with his statement. P.J. turned to look Buck in the eyes. "Who are you anyway?"

"My name is Buck Goodwin." Buck said lazily. _Crap! Now the interrogation begins! And by someone a year or two younger than me! Way to throw someone off guard. Well, I'm not going to crack that easily._

"I didn't ask you what you're name is, I asked who you are, meathead!"

_Alright, this little commie's a hot head. Then I'll act as cool as an ice cube. _"I'm just a kid from Texas."

"Aha!" P.J. exclaimed, rushing over to Buck. "Then you are from Elsewhere."

Buck had first raised his hands in a fighting stance, but as P.J. grabbed him firmly, yet gently by the sleeves he put them down. _I couldn't fight off this whole crowd by myself. I'd better just take what they dish. _Buck braced himself for what was to come, but P.J. just shook him a little as he asked,

"What's it like, this Texas? What happened to the rest of the world after the banishment of the True Religions? How did you get here? Are there still flying ships in existence?"

_What's with this guy? _Buck wondered._ He's only asking stupid questions, so how? Oh, I see, he's trying to make me slip up and tell him about our air force. Well, I have an answer for you._ "Well, after the New Age Enlightenment act, which banished all non-conformist…that is, negative…religions, there was a revolution in a country called China. That started before I was even born, so I'm not sure what started it. The only thing that is worth mentioning that happened during this time was the curfews and precise work cycles that the United States brought about to increase productivity…"

"What about the curfew? What's a curfew? What does 'work cycles' mean?" P.J. asked. A few of the people in the now growing crowd shushed P.J. and packed themselves even tighter to get closer to Buck.

Buck smiled coyly. _Sorry, but I'm not telling you about our industry, I've already told you what everyone and their dog knows, and that's enough._ "…Anyway, this revolution was drawn to a close about ten years ago. The Chinese government had them cornered, and then, at the last second, the leader of the revolution set off a dirty bomb which blew up just about the whole city and which contaminated a good portion of the outlying agricultural land. Well, the Chinese government blamed the United States and shot off a ton of Nukes, and then the United States shot off a ton of Nukes. It wasn't until later that everyone found out that the dirty bomb came from a warhead the Vietnamese sold the rebels. By that time, the Chinese government was all but obliterated, and since only the cities were hit, the peasants basically took over the government. The United States had gotten off a little bit better. They had some Anti…" Buck stopped. _Can't tell them too much about our defense system, or what's left anyway. _"Most of the Chinese missiles failed. So the United States only had half a dozen cities hit, most to the west of the Mississippi. Well, then about three years ago, the North Koreans got real bold. They swept into China and conquered every city worth taking and occupying the outlying cropland to feed their troops. However, the United States did nothing. That is, until the North Koreans blitzed past our defenses and took South Korea. Then we set up a defensive position in Japan and fought the Damn commies until we just got tired of it all and pulled a massive air strike that just about leveled Korea. We didn't really care, because there was nothing left worth saving. So, the Korean armies in China just dissolved, until the Vietnamese came. It seems that they'd been planning for a war for a long time. They had the kind of technology we had just started using a year or two ago, and with the huge mechanical armies and staggering amount of manpower they had, it was easy for them to commandeer all the Korean's Forces. And so," Buck said, shrugging. "Now we're outnumbered two to one. We're also pretty much outgunned. We've done all we can to defend Japan, and so the South Pacific has been suffering for a while. I'd been sent to try to join up with the commonwealth forces in Australia, to keep the Commies from gaining too much ground, while we try to bomb their factories and get ours going again. And that," Buck said, as he stretched, "is that. I suppose I'll just wait until I'm picked up by someone else in the convoy." _I hope I didn't tell them too much._

P.J. looked disappointed. "So, the only thing you outlanders did while we were here building a new civilization, was incinerate each other?"

"Well, yeah." Buck said, slightly confused.

Rocky sighed, "Well, what did you expect? They refused to accept their one source of hope and prosperity. I suppose we'd all be like that if we all rejected the one true Religion."

"Or like those Inlanders," Sanya growled. Everyone had a laugh at this remark and the crowd dispersed. The adults went back to their work, and the students climbed the steps and peered over the edge at the Elders.

Buck scratched his head. "I don't get it, what's so funny?" He asked Sanya, "Who are these Inlanders?"

"They're ignorant ranchers who are inclined to have a fight over every misunderstanding." Sanya replied gruffly. "However, we continue our diplomatic relations with them only because they are more reasonable than the Lekians."

"And who are-" Before Buck could ask his question, a bell started ringing and the Elders started to trickle out of the House of Knowledge. A lady in a black gown called out, "Alright, children. I apologize for the wait, but we should still hurry. A day of learning and intellectual growing awaits us!"

_Yeah… I'll be there in a second. You know, no matter where you are, you'll always find that really corny teacher who's more enthusiastic than you are. After all those years doing the same of stuff…where do they find the energy?_

Most of the class was of the same opinion as Buck. They gave of moans and a few grumbled as they slowly trudged up the twelve steps. As they stepped onto the raised platform that served as the building's floor, Buck saw that there were an immense number of oaken desks, with two chairs per desk. Each piece looked as if it had been hand crafted according to a slightly different pattern. As a result, no two pieces of furniture looked the same. _So, it seems that they've taken the same amount of time on the inside as they have on the outside. They must really like their public school system._ Sanya pulled Buck over to one table.

"Sit here," she said, but then she hesitated. "Unless, that is you believe you would find a more satisfactory seat elsewhere."

"Um, no…" Buck said as he sat in the right hand chair, "This chair is… satisfactory." Buck looked around as Sanya sat in the chair next to him. _Alright, there's that Rocky kid up at the front explaining me away. That P.J. guy's at the desk right in front of us. I'd better keep an eye on that one. In fact, I'd better keep an eye on every one of these kids._

"Don't worry," Sanya said, shaking his arm a little to get his attention. "Miss Leah's an excellent teacher. She shouldn't be too hard on someone just starting school."

_Just starting school!_ Buck almost said. _I'm eighteen! I should be starting college, not school! _Buck started to protest, but the teacher, Miss Leah, was tapping her desk with a walnut shell. Buck wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but the walnut had the same effect upon the class as a judge's gavel.

"Alright, children, let's come to order. Today, we must be on our best behavior, because I have just been informed that we have a guest in or midst. We must show…at any time…we"

Buck couldn't catch it all. He let his eyes wander about the room as his consciousness receded inwardly. _Man! _He thought to himself _she sure likes to talk, doesn't she? And why do teachers say stuff like "We" and "Our" all time? I mean, I know teachers are supposed to put themselves in their work, but…I don't know. It just seems too corny. And talk about stating the obvious. "Be on your best behavior because of the guest in our midst?" Please, why don't you just say, "Keep your grubby hands to yourselves 'cause we've got a prisoner of war, and want to make a good impression." And talk about too picture perfect. I've always heard about teachers with a clock, apple, oaken desk, and a cup of pencils on their desk, but none come closer to the "Ideal" than this girl. Oh, except for the wardrobe. I mean, they could have at least bought a decent dress for this lady to wear. The way it looks, you'd think she'd gotten it used when she graduated high school. _Buck dropped his chin into his palm. He looked down at his desk. _And who ever heard of solid maple desks! I have seen more wood here than in all the jungles I've been to. I still haven't seen any metal used in anything besides some primitive tools and that bell up there. Perhaps these people aren't commies after all. They seem too…well off to be communistic. Perhaps they're just some bumbling natives, or perhaps…_

"I said," Miss Leah repeated, louder than her customary serene tone of voice, "What is your name, young sir?"

Buck saw that she, along with everyone else, was looking at him. "Me?"

"Yes," Miss Leah said, slightly impatient. "I would have referred to you by name, but that would have meant I had already received an answer. Unless you mean that your name happens to be 'Me'"

"Erm…no, Ma'am, I suppose it's not… My name's Buck Goodwin." _Now I know where Sanya gets it._

"Thank you, Mr. Goodwin."

_Mr. Goodwin? Oh, brother._

At the end of class, Buck exited the building, ahead of Sanya and Rocky. _What was that? At first, they give us some math problems I finished before High school, and could do on paper faster than anyone else. Then, I'm given English that I hated, before and after I took the SAT. The hardest questions there were the ones concerning history. Who cares what the year was when the Global Warming scandal was exposed. And what the Hell was Watergate? I suppose that's no surprise, _Buck realized, _these people probably could only find a historian to teach classes. As a result, these kids get taught mostly history. Now I know that these people aren't commies. No true communist would ever allow someone that educated to teach the working class. Unless this is some kind of elaborate act, put on just to confuse me…_

Before Buck could get any farther, Sanya grabbed one of his arms and jerked him forward. "Come with me!" she cried as she raced down the street, towing Buck along as he tried to protest.

Rocky just shook his head and sighed. "Why is Sanya so attracted to that boy?" he muttered under his breath. Then he raised his voice as he started running, saying "Wait up, Sanya! We have to consider our budget planning before I go to work! …And when are you planning on getting a part-time job?"

They headed down one street, turned right and then left. Buck could see vendors and stalls lining three sides of an open forum. _Ah, the market section, where they lavish me with quaint trinkets of their primitive society. That is, if we can find any trinkets. Sure, there's sea food everywhere and even some clothing stores, but I hate sea food, and I like the clothes I have. _Buck looked down at his worn T-shirt and cargo pants. _On second thought, perhaps I could get a vest… _

At the far end of the market, there were three buildings very close to each other, but not touching each other. The one in the middle was taller and wider than the other two, but not as large as the House of Knowledge was. From what Buck could see, it was the police station. _It's not very large for a capital city… _

"Mother!" Sanya let go of Buck's hand to run after a woman. "Mother, are you busy at the moment?"

"Oh, Sanya," the woman acknowledged, "you've been let out early? Would you help me carry the groceries home? All of the local produce dropped in price, in accordance with a sudden overabundance. I thought I might stock up a little more than usual."

Sanya half listened to her patiently, then continued. "I've met one of the Outlanders, Mother." She turned to Buck and pulled him closer. "Buck, this is my Mother, Mother, this is Buck," Sanya said with a wave of her hand.

"Um…hello," Buck said, extending a hand.

"Good afternoon," the woman said smiling.

Buck lowered his hand, wondering, _Is she that rude, that hateful, or just that oblivious. Perhaps she's just ignorant._

"Mother," Sanya said, "I have been wondering, might it be alright if we provided Buck with accommodations and provisions? At least," she added quickly, "for the time being."

"Well, I'll have to ask your father," Sanya's Mother replied. Sanya's shoulders drooped, until her mother continued, "But I think it would be the only hospitable thing to do."

"Um…Thank you?" Buck said, unsure of just what had just happened.

"It will be a pleasure," Sanya's mother said, smiling kindly. "I will probably be putting you to good use, since Rocky's gone to the shipwright's guild as an apprentice. It's nice that he can come home every night, so he can still eat breakfast and dinner with us, but he's always forgetting about his chores. Of course," she admitted with a laugh, "he was doing the same thing even before he was apprenticed." With that, she picked up a large basket, about three feet in diameter and about the same length in height, and gave it to Buck. "Would you please take this home while I continue browsing through the shops?"

"Well, I…" Buck started, taking the basket.

"I'll help!" Sanya said, grasping one end of the basket and pulling Buck down the street. She turned left down an alley, then right when they came to a larger road. Sanya then headed to the nearest cottage on the opposite side of the road. "We live in such a lovely house," Sanya mused out loud to herself. "…Don't you think so?"

Buck looked at the house. It looked more like a Texan Hacienda than a Hawaiian hut. It had walls made from adobe and logs protruding from the wall around eight feet up. This was used to support a balcony platform on the second story. It was shaded from the sun with a wooden awning. The awning was built somewhat like the balcony, extending from the wall itself and resting upon two wooden posts. Buck shrugged. "It's alright if you like your houses the same color as the sand. And if you don't hate the sea."

Sanya laughed, "Why would anyone hate the sea?"

Buck remembered the month he spent rolling around in the cargo hold. _You have no idea._

Sanya grabbed the basket, and after stumbling around, trying to master the load, she headed for a door on the opposite side of the house. The door was at a 45 degree angle, measuring from the ground or from the wall. Sanya swung the door open while balancing the basket on one knee. "Here's our cellar, where we store our food." Sanya said as she descended a few wooden steps. Buck followed, noting that there was no lock upon the door. Sanya set the basket down in the far right corner while Buck looked around.

"This is a cellar?" Buck asked skeptically. "You have some good stone walls, but all you have for a floor is sand. All the water has to do is rise a foot or two and you'll be flooded."

Sanya looked up. The expression on her face seemed to indicate that she was surprised. "Well, yes, I suppose. How do you know this?"

Buck waved as if to swat the question away. "I had two Great Grandparents who were engineers. Since they were married to each other, my Grandfather knew a lot about it, and so when I visited him, a little bit would rub off onto me… But never mind that, do you know who might be able to lay a stone floor? And what do you mean, 'I suppose'?"

"Well, my father was afraid at first that we might dig too far, and we might be flooded at high tide. However, his fears were assuaged when an architect came out to look at it. He told us how far to dig, and we stayed within that parameter."

Buck huffed. "I don't mean 'flooded at high tide,' I mean, what if a storm comes? What will you do then?"

"A storm? Oh, you mean rain clouds? Yes, we do get them from time to time, but we never get any more than three inches in precipitation."

"No!" Buck said, yanking his hair and marched down one isle of fairly fresh produce. "I mean a big storm, with thunder and lightning!" Buck stopped suddenly. He turned to Sanya and asked slowly, "What do you mean, 'never…more than three inches'?"

Sanya stared at Buck. She answered, "I mean that neither one of my parents remember the clouds giving us more than three inches of rain in a day, or a rainfall that lasted as long or longer than one half hour." She looked concerned. "Are you alright, Buck?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Yeah, sorry," Buck replied, absentmindedly. "Let's see if we can help your mom some more." Buck stepped out of the cellar and Sanya closed the door. _I don't care where you live. There is no way that you can go for thirty or forty years without a single storm. And no way will you have a light rain for an hour and yet no light sprinkles for a few minutes. Now I know that something's going on. As they say, something rotten in Denver._

The next load they hauled was a basket of mussels. This was slightly heavier, but not too heavy for Buck. Still, Sanya wanted to help him, so he felt he had to let her try. While on the way back, Buck asked, "Do you have any weathermen here?"

"What?" Sanya asked.

"Weathermen, you know, guys who tell you what the weather is going to do."

"Oh, well, we're all weathermen then, in a sense. Well, all except for those of us who are women, but then they should be weather-women."

"No, I mean…" Buck pondered for a moment. _Now, how would you people classify a meteorologist? _Sanya stopped and waited patiently by the road for Buck. Buck walked slowly over to her, scratching his chin. "Is there anyone here who records past and recent weather? I mean, writes down how much rainfall, how long the rainfall was, and tells you what the weather will be in a week or so from today. You know things like that."

"Well," Sanya thought for a moment, and then answered, "The old hermit in the lighthouse records most of what happens out at sea. Perhaps he also records what happens on land, but I doubt very much if he would tell you what will happen. I think that's what Icikoreans do best." Sanya started walking back to the Market.

Buck followed after her, asking, "What? Who's ice Koreans? What does that have to do with forecasting the weather?"

Sanya looked over her shoulder as she walked. "We have a saying here in Aquinis: 'If you know your past, and take care of today, tomorrow will take care of itself' which means that we study history closely, and make the best decisions we can, based on the surrounding circumstances and on past experiences."

"In my country, we have another saying: 'hope for the best, but prepare for the worst," Buck shot back. "That means that if you don't plan for tomorrow you won't be prepared for what's around the next corner. Wishful thinking is all good and well, but if you stick your head in the sand, you won't ever get ahead in life."

Sanya headed for her mother, who handed Sanya a basket half full of tuna. "Thank you," she said as she beamed. She pointed to a basket on the ground, "I can't lift that one, would you mind carrying it back to the house, Buck?"

"Um… sure" He said, still looking around.

"Thank you, Buck," Sanya's Mother said. She turned and left before Buck could give her a proper answer. Buck sighed and walked over to the basket on the ground.

"Of course you could never get ahead in life," Sanya said as she lifted a basket onto her shoulder, "You would never be able to move very well if your head was in the ground. First of all it's not very good posture, second…"

_What?_ Buck thought as he picked up a basket full of fish he did not recognize. "Oh, no, I don't mean literally, with your head in the sand. It's just a saying we have in my country. A euphemism, if you want to call it that…"

"Well, what does it mean?" Sanya asked over her shoulder as she headed down the alley.

"It means to not know what's going on just because you don't care to know." Buck said, hurrying a little to catch up.

"So why don't you just say that?" Sanya asked as she waited for a man with a cartload of lumber to pass by.

"Because it…." Buck started. "You know what? Never mind!"

Su Jin Matsuoka was bored. He didn't care if they were in enemy territory. The fact of the matter was that he had no money to play at the cards or at dice, he didn't like dominoes, and it had been that way for the past nine months. All he wanted to do was go ashore, chop down a tree, do something with his hands. But he couldn't, so all he could do was go on guard duty, and earn enough points to go ashore or get some overtime pay. However, that turned out to be a curse in disguise, for while on guard duty, there was only the sea and the shore to watch.

"Don't you think that perhaps we could volunteer as scouts?" Su Jin asked the first officer Hajime, Seijurou Hajime.

"We've already sent some out to scour the surrounding country."

"Oh," Su Jin murmured as he rested his chin on his arms.

"Shows how much you know," he said rather gruffly. He looked down and saw how downcast Su Jin looked. "Don't worry," he chuckled, "We won't die of boredom. I have a feeling that once the scouts get back, we'll be having plenty of fun."

Su Jin looked at Hajime. "Do you really think so?"

Hajime grinned. "I'm certain of it."

"Well, that was the last of it," Sanya's Mom said as Buck and Sanya came up to her.

"Yeah…" Buck wheezed. "Well, thanks Mrs. …?"

"Oh, you're welcome," she replied, smiling away as Buck rolled his eyes. "In return, allow me to purchase some necessary articles for you, while you search for proper employment."

"Um…" Buck scratches his neck. "I really only need a knife and maybe a vest with some pockets…"

"That sounds reasonable," Sanya added.

Buck glared at her. "Considering I did most of the work, it should sound almost like a slave wage."

"I did help you with the first basket! And the fabrics were heavy!"

"Not as heavy as those mussels!"

"Were those mussels anywhere near as heavy as those wooden slats?"

"I said we could make two trips!"

"Besides all that, I'm a delicate flower."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes!"

"Sanya," her mother interceded, "stop acting like you're at home. Now apologize."

"Sorry," Sanya mumbled. "I suppose you did help out more than was needed."

Buck looked down at his shoes. "Perhaps I shouldn't have shouted at you like that," He said guiltily, "I'm sorry."

"Well, that was unexpected," Sanya's mother said, slightly surprised.

"What was unexpected?" Buck asked.

"An outlander with manners."

_That was uncalled for! I don't care who you are lady that was friggin' rude! _"I do surprise people at times," Buck said with a fake grin.

Sanya's mom went ahead, chatting away, saying things like, "If you prefer leather that will cost extra. However, it doesn'tbreathe very well when it's warm. I suggest wool myself. Yes, it may be the cheapest, but it will also…"

_Shut up already will you! I'd take the cheapest rope you had, but you'd probably talk me to death before I could hang myself… _Buck thought as he still wore the polite smile on his face. He nodded at appropriate times and looked bright-eyed and happy.

Sanya, however, looked deeper into his face. "Please stop that," she said in a whisper.

"What?" Buck turned his head to look at her as he followed Sanya's mom.

"That smile," Sanya replied. "It has nothing behind it. It is so false that it hurts to gaze upon it. You have an emptiness… a hurt inside that you conceal with sayings, irritability, and now empty smiles." She laid a hand upon Buck's shoulder. "…I'm…sorry, is there anything I can do?"

"No, there's nothing wrong," Buck said, twisting away from Sanya's hand. "You're just seeing something that's not there." But even as he said it, images started rushing before his eyes. Buck grabbed the old ring at his neck. _Not yet, I can't tell you quite yet…_

The day went well. Sanya's mother found Buck a knife as long as Buck's thigh being sold by a foreign merchant. And Buck was able to find a worn but soft, black leather vest at a used clothing shop. Most of the day was spent bartering and haggling over the prices. _I haven't heard this much haggling since my Grandfather took me to see Dave Ramsey._

As Sanya and Buck were walking home together, Sanya called out, "Rocky!" and ran up the street. Buck could see a stiff person walking very slowly. _She must have pretty good eyesight._

"Hello Sanya," he said weakly as he trudged towards his house. As Sanya bounded up to him, he altered course and said, "Please don't. I had a rush job to do, so I've been working since school got out."

"Oh, well, I can't wait to tell you the amazing day I've had. Oh, by the way, would you mind if Buck slept with me?"

Buck and Rocky froze. Rocky slowly turned his head to glare holes into Buck's head, while Buck looked to Sanya as if he couldn't believe who had said it. In fact, one might say that his eyes just about popped out of his head.

"…I mean, I suppose your room has more square feet than mine, but since you really need your sleep, I thought Buck could sleep in my room…"

"No, no, it's okay," Rocky said a little hurriedly. "I'm not that tired. Buck can sleep in my room. He wouldn't disturb me in the least."

"Okay," Sanya replied as if she would not give it a second thought. "Well, you know that Buck helped me put some of the groceries away in our cellar? Well, it turns out that his Great Grandparents were architects, so he said that…"

Buck stopped listening. Rocky was still glaring at him. _Dude, I never thought that… I would never… Not in my wildest dreams would I… _But the words never came, and he had nothing to apologize for anyway, so Buck stayed silent during the trip to Rocky's house. _Now everyone and her brother is angry at me. I just can't catch a break! What's next? What else could go wrong? _


	3. The Wizard

Chapter III

The Wizard

Su-Jin watched as the last of the advance scouts climbed aboard the ship. He quietly crept up to the bridge. He hankered down next to the window and listened closely.

"…Primitive culture," he heard the scout say, "with…hardly any weapons…for the taking."

"…I'll be the one…make the decisions around here… maps are…away team…at dawn."

"Really, lieutenant, there are better ways of gathering information," a voice said behind him.

Su-Jin froze. Slowly he turned to see who had found him. It was Seijuro Hajime. Su-Jin's heart started beating again. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

"No, we must stick together if we are to survive these times; if you won't tell, I won't."

Su-Jin breathed more easily. He took a look at the bridge, but it seemed that everyone had left. "Well, I think we're going to begin an invasion of our own, if I'm not mistaken."

Hajime snorted. "That's the worst thing we could do at a time like this. The captain just trusts in his abilities too much."

"What do you mean the worst thing we could do?"

"The radio's out," Hajime replied, sighing. "I took it apart and put it back together. It is fine, and I've already checked the antenna, so it's nothing wrong with our equipment."

"Perhaps our commanders are simply too busy fighting a war to answer our calls?" Su-Jin asked hopefully.

Hajime shook his head. "I also checked our hand held devices, and found that their range has been reduced to half a mile. Beyond that, there's just static."

"So, what does that mean?"

"There's someone here that's more technologically advanced than we are."

"Rise and shine, sleepy heads!" Sanya said cheerfully.

Buck cracked an eye open, and saw Sanya leaning over him, a smile on her face and a twinkle in both of her eyes. She was already dressed in a plain white shirt and brown pants. Buck took a quick glance out the window. He couldn't believe what he saw. "It's black outside…" he said, barely audible.

"That's right, I woke you up before dawn."

Rocky and Buck groaned in unison.

"What time is it?" Buck moaned groggily from under the covers.

"Doesn't matter," Rocky replied from beneath the pillows, "it's still too early!"

"Well, of course," Sanya said, matter-of-factly, "How else would we be able to go all the way up to the lighthouse on the hill before we go to class?"

Rocky blinked once or twice, "I'm sorry, I must have missed something. Why are you waking me up again?"

"Oh, that's right, you didn't know. Buck wanted to talk to the hermit in the lighthouse, to the North. Since I still have to help Rocky here, as well as do some chores with Father, I thought it would be best if we left earlier, rather than later."

Rocky seemed dazed. Then he narrowed his eyes and looked at Buck. "You mean you were the one to wake me up for nothing? Why in the world would you want to wake up hours earlier just to talk with some old coot?"

Buck appeared as confused as Rocky, "I didn't." He looked up at Sanya with a raised eyebrow. "Sanya, I don't remember asking you to wake me up this early."

"Oh, I know you didn't, but I remembered how interested you were in the 'weatherman,' so I decided that it would be best to see him as soon as possible."

Rocky sighed, glanced over at Buck, and then looked up at Sanya. "You mean to say that you got us both up for something neither of us asked for."

"Well, I suppose you could put it that way."

Rocky groaned and fell back into bed. Buck shook his head, sighed, grabbed one of the pillows and pulled it over his head as he fell back into the bed.

"C'mon," Sanya coaxed as she shook Rocky. "You should be waking up earlier as it is."

"No thanks," is all Rocky said.

"There isn't a snowball's chance in hell that you're going to get me out of this bed," Buck said from under his pillow.

Five minutes later, Buck came down the stairs, pulling his new old black leather vest over his wrinkled T-shirt. Rocky soon followed his hair askew, dressed in a plain cotton shirt and brown pants of the same material. Right behind him was Sanya. Rocky and Sanya's father was just starting breakfast when they arrived downstairs. He looked up, surprised.

"Rocky? What in the world happened to make you get up so early?"

"Sanya," Rocky grumbled.

Buck rubbed his eyes as he nearly fell down the last few steps. His eyes were still bleary as he looked at the Father cooking breakfast. "How can you people get up so early?"

The Father shrugged as he poured the batter. "Clean living perhaps?"

Buck shrugged, "Perhaps." _Then again, perhaps you're insane. _"So…where are we going again?"

"We're going to see the old lighthouse, or rather, it's recent occupant."

"And how far is it?"

"I don't know. If you really wanted to know, just count your paces as you walk. Of course, it would be likely that you would lose count so measuring it with a chain might be a more efficient way of determining its length."

"…And, it lies to the North?"

"Yes…or rather, the road does. I'm not sure, because after a time, the road curves by the approximate space of a semicircle, and this occurs rather frequently in the road's construction, so we're not entirely sure of its direction. However, due to careful observation, we know that it does not lie to the south."

Buck ran his fingers through his hair. "Yes, thank you Sanya, you've been a big help."

"You're welcome," Sanya replied, looking hungrily at what her father was cooking.

Rocky glared at Sanya. "You didn't tell him anything! Don't you know sarcasm when you hear it?"

Sanya looked up. "What's sarcasm?"

"It's saying something you don't really mean."

"You mean like lying."

"I don't think so. I think it's something to do with irony."

"Oh, okay."

Buck looked at Rocky and then at Sanya. "Yeah…so do you think he'll turn us out when we get there?"

"'…Turn us out'?" Sanya asked.

"Umm…refuse to see us," Buck replied.

"Well, you don't know until you try," the Father said cheerfully.

Buck glared daggers at him, but the Father failed to notice. _I'm running out of excuses to go back to bed here, I don't need you getting in on the act._ Buck turned back to Sanya to try a last ditch effort. "But what if we can't find anything to eat on the way?"

"Oh, I already made us something yesterday," Sanya said, with a smile.

Buck looked at Rocky. "I'm not going back to bed, am I?"

"Nope," Rocky replied, "Sanya doesn't give up that easily. Believe me, she thinks of everything."

"Great. We're going to have…oodles of fun."

Buck, Rocky and Sanya set out about the same time that the Sun was just peeking over the sea. Actually, Sanya was setting out, far ahead of Buck and Rocky, who were almost supporting each other as they trudged along.

"We're too tired to walk," Buck moaned

"I'm going to die if we walk much further," Rocky groaned.

"You mean we're going to die."

"We're all going to die."

"We're going to get lost and die of starvation!"

"…If we don't get eaten first."

Sanya whirled around and glared at Buck and Rocky, "Would you be silent! It's only a half an hour walking at a leisurely pace, and there are no wild animals that we have to worry about. Look at yourselves! We've been gone only approximately five minutes and already you're complaining. Well, quit complaining, you're being a bad example for your gender, if not your species."

Rocky and Buck looked at each other, then down at the ground. They grumbled an incoherent answer, and Sanya turned around and started stomping forward again.

Buck continued alongside Rocky for a minute and then said, "I don't think she's going to crack that easily."

"Trust me," Rocky replied, "She'll stop and turn around eventually. We only have to wear her down."

"Well, I'm going to save my breath. I guess I might as well see this hermit and see if he's for real or not."

"For real?" Rocky asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Umm…Just keep walking," Buck said as he walked faster. This is going to be harder than I thought. They almost have their own language. It's like a whole different country!

Buck saw that others were just now waking up as they passed by the House of Knowledge and other houses farther north. Also, the farther north they ventured, the farther apart the buildings were. Also, a few began to become more stately, as if there were a few estates farther in, where the land looked less like a beach and more like a poor excuse for a meadow. Then the ground started getting rocky, and the road went from cobblestone to pavement to gravel to a small trail. And as it turned into a trail, the path began to get steeper. As Sanya had said, it also began to weave in and among the larger rocks. Buck saw that after climbing another boulder, Rocky began smiling.

"What is it?" Buck asked in a whisper.

"Sanya's tiring," Rocky whispered back, "Perhaps if we can wear her out on this excursion, we can keep her from doing this again. Until then, we can enjoy the show."

Buck started smiling himself, "Ac so, ac so."

Rocky just stared

"It's German," Buck explained, "I think it means something like 'I see, I see.' Seriously, haven't you ever seen Stalag 17?"

"No. What's a Stalag?"

Buck sighed. "Never mind, just enjoy the show," he said as he waved towards Sanya. "Just don't pester her too much, or else she'll just explode at us."

Rocky nodded and waved his comment off. "Yeah, whatever you say."

They walked in silence for a while after that, except for Sanya's wheezing and Rocky's muffled laughter. Buck just shook his head. _Well, at least they're having fun while the rest of the world burns._

"I'm exhausted," Sanya whined, "go on without me, I would only slow you down. Save yourselves!"

"Oh, yeah," Rocky shot back as he panted heavily, "You're the one…complaining? I'm…the one who…objected to this trip…in the first place."

"Guys, would you pull yourselves together for one second?" Buck said, as he walked back towards them. He pointed back down the way he had come, "I think we're here."

Rocky staggered up and over the ridge and looked where Buck had pointed. Standing there was a Tower, made of stone and mortar, with a thatched roof and four windows in the top, where the sun was shining through. _What in heaven's name is keeping it upright?_ For some strange reason, the second story was leaning heavily to one side, almost at a 45 degree angle. This meant that the apex of the edifice was approximately 30 odd feet to the South of its base. In fact, someone was already in the process of trying to erect a few wooden trusses in order to prevent any further movement to the South.

Sanya crawled over the hill and flopped down on the top. "Wow," she said, emotion snuffed out of her by sheer exhaustion. "That's a strange building."

Buck shook his head, "Don't you people ever exercise?"

Sanya looked at Buck in disbelief. "What? Get all dirty and grimy? For what purpose? The whole reason for education is to allow a few to avoid such drudgery, and to pursue loftier goals for the betterment of mankind."

Buck looked at her skeptically for a moment, and then looked at Rocky. "So what's you're excuse?"

Rocky shrugged, "I work with my hands not my back."

Sanya rolled onto her back and looked at the clouds, "You guys go ahead; I'll catch up in a second. Allow me to reassess my physical condition and recapture my wind."

Rocky stood up, walked over to Sanya, and booted her down the hill, "I'll see you when I get down."

"ROCKY!" Was all Sanya could get out as she rolled downhill at a rapidly increasing pace.

Buck looked at Rocky, his eyes widening. "What did you just do? Didn't I tell you not to pester her?"

Rocky shrugged, "She pulled me out of bed, and I pushed her downhill. The two acts cancel each other out."

"You friggin' booted her ten feet!"

"Same difference."

Buck pointed at the dust cloud that Sanya was making. "You call that the same? She's still going!" True enough, Sanya was still rolling down the steep hill. Buck looked at Rocky for a moment and then started running down the hill after her.

After she was halfway down, the man working on the tower looked their way. He was an older man, in his Sixties if Buck guessed right, dressed in some old navy blue pants that did not match the navy blue of his baggy cotton shirt. In fact, his shirt was so baggy, that he had tied it up in places with odd bits of string and twine. He had a mustache and a beard about four or five inches long. They, along with his hair, were a bright white in color, with a few splotches of a duller color.

As soon as he saw Sanya's rapid descent, he immediately dropped the hammer he was using and started waving. Then he started cursing when the hammer fell on his foot. Hobbling up the path, he continued to grumble vile phrases under his breath.

As Sanya rolled to a stop, he bent down and offered a hand. "Good evening! My, I haven't had guests here in a few years. Last man was a tax collector, but as I can see, you don't have enough dignity to be a tax collector. Besides, you're not old enough. So, how long are you planning to stay?"

Buck slowed to a stop as Sanya sat up. She was grumbling and didn't notice the man until he shoved his hand into her face. "So, what's your name, little girl?"

"AAAHHH!" Sanya screamed as she scrambled behind Buck's legs.

"Oh, what a lovely name," the man continued, apparently unfazed by Sanya's reaction. His eyes traveled upwards until they met Buck's. "And what's your name, little boy?"

"I'm not little," Buck grumbled, "I'm eighteen!"

"Don't tell him your name," Sanya said, tugging on his pant leg. "He's a wizard, and he'll probably put you under a spell or something."

Buck looked down at his ankles, where Sanya was located. "If you were going to be this scared, then why did you want to come up here in the first place?"

"Well, I thought we would be a comfortable distance from his tower." Sanya moved her shoulders up and down, giving the equivalent of a shrug while still holding on to Buck's legs.

"Sanya…" Buck sighed and shook his head, "would you stop cowering. You're embarrassing me." He looked up at the Wizard. "Are you really a Wizard?" he asked with an eyebrow raised and a skeptical look in his eye.

"Oh, yes," the man replied, chuckling, "I'm a Wizard, but I can't cast any spells, unfortunately. You see," he said, twirling around, "I'm a weather Wizard! A purveyor of precipitation, a meteorologist of maelstroms, a connoisseur of cyclones, an authority of almanacs, a…"

"So you can forecast the weather?" Buck asked, without any enthusiasm.

"Oh, yes," he said, a slight frown being the only indication of his displeasure at being interrupted. "Yet I am so much more than that! I can remember immense amounts of data, including the weather occurrences stretching back the past twenty years! I am also highly skilled in mathematics, allowing me to predict events months in advance, among other things. I am also fairly handy with a hammer!" Just then, the wooden supports started creaking, sending the old man scurrying over to his project. He started hammering away, connecting more supports to the old ones and putting more nails where they needed to go. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Well," Buck thought, then shrugged. "First things first, what's your name?"

"I asked first."

"I guess I'd like to know if you've found it strange that…"

"No, the first thing I asked you was, 'what's your name, little boy?'" The Wizard stepped back and admired his work. "Actually, the first question I asked was directed towards that lady cradling your ankles, but I can ask that one again later."

"Um, my name is Buck Goodwin…"

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you," the Wizard said, grabbing Buck's hand and shaking it vigorously, "I met a man named Goodwin once, nice fellow. A little strange most of the time, and mental the rest of the time, but he had good intentions." He smacked himself on the forehead, "Oh, but where have my manners gone? My name is Drew Patrick, like the Holiday. Please call me Patrick, not Drew, Andrew, Mr. Patrick, or…" Patrick rolled his eyes, "Pattie. Oh, I loathe that name. I got it when I was in the second grade. Where was I? Oh, yes, that's right. I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Umm… thank you, I think."

The Wizard then promptly dropped Buck's hand and bent down to look Sanya in the eye. "So, what's your name?" he asked, smiling even as Sanya drew back slightly. "I do doubt that your name is AHHHH, unless it is a sort of nickname."

"My name is…Sanya," she said, both hesitantly and quietly.

"Sanya, is that with or without a last name?"

"It's just Sanya."

"Oh, just another street urchin trying to earn the right to have a family name, how touching."

"Um…What's a street urchin?" Sanya asked, curiosity overcoming her fears. "Is that a disinherited orphan, or a disenfranchised child with humble origins?"

"No idea whatsoever. Alright, now that we're all assembled, shall we go indoors?" the Wizard asked, with a wave of his hand. "I'm afraid I haven't had breakfast as of yet."

"Well, I suppose, so…"

"Please no!" Sanya nearly shrieked, digging her fingers into Buck's calves. "I mean," she hastily added, "Shouldn't we wait for Rocky?"

Buck looked back up the hill. Rocky seemed to be sound asleep, his back propped up against a random rock. "I think he'll keep."

"Keep what?"

"Well…he did boot you off the hill, so why are you so worried about him missing breakfast."

"I…" Sanya chewed her bottom lip, then released her grip on Buck's legs and stood up. "I suppose if we're not gone for too long…"

"Excellent!" the Wizard bellowed, causing Sanya to latch onto Buck's arm. "Let us go to the castle!" he said with a wave of his arm. "Alright, so it's more of a tower, but it's as solid as a castle!" The edifice shuddered once more, causing the Wizard to wince. He shrugged, "Well, almost as solid."

Buck stepped over and stooped under the thresh-hold. The floor, littered with scraps of lumber and various carpentry tools, was little more than a clean-swept dirt floor.

"I'm so sorry about the mess," Patrick said, "I haven't had time to tidy up the place. Well, that and I don't have anywhere else to put it."

"Perhaps if you would take proper care of your tools, you would be able to use them to their fullest potential, and your masonry would reflect it."

Patrick turned to look at Sanya, almost whirling about as he did so. "What was that?" Patrick asked, looking to Buck for an answer. "Did she say something?" Patrick pointed at Sanya.

Sanya whimpered her discomfort softly, and tried to hide behind Buck. Buck waited for her to reply, but when she didn't, he just rolled his eyes and replied, "No, I was just wondering why you didn't put more…care into your…building and your choice of where to put it?"

"What's wrong with this spot?" Patrick asked over his shoulder as he bounded up the circular staircase in the middle of the room.

"Well, for starters," Buck said, as he climbed after him, "your tower's supposed to be a lighthouse, not the leaning tower of Pisa. Now, if you'd build on that rocky hilltop, you'd be able to…"

"…To see even farther, and take samples of the winds, measure the average rainfall more precisely…" Patrick backtracked far enough to give Buck a grin and say "Thank you!" Then he bounded up the steps again.

"…Wasn't really my point…" Buck grumbled. He climbed up and through the bent part of the tower.

"Buck…could you…?" Sanya started and stopped, obviously trying to keep from whining.

Buck stopped and turned around to look at Sanya. "What do you want?"

"Could you…help me? It just wouldn't be lady-like for me to…"

"And you also don't want me to get too far ahead, do you?" Buck guessed. Buck sighed. It was something between a huff and a groan, giving a sense of annoyance and acceptance at the same time. Buck backtracked and helped Sanya up and over the more difficult parts of the stairway.

"Thank you…" Sanya mumbled.

"Don't mention it," Buck said, hopping up the last few steps. Was that…no, it couldn't be. She's not flirting with me, is she?

"**STOP!**" Patrick shouted, as Buck stepped onto the wooden floor at the top of the tower.

Buck froze, Sanya stopped in her tracks, and Patrick cocked one ear to listen. Buck felt the tower sway under his feet even as he heard the sound of it shifting in the sand, ever so slightly. "Sorry," he breathed.

Patrick slowly reached out and grabbed hold of one of the dressers on the south side of the tower. Slowly, he scooted and dragged it to the other side of the room. Then he moved to a book cabinet overflowing with books of various shapes and sizes. Patrick put his shoulder to it and pushed it next to the dresser by the North window.

"What was that?" Sanya asked, her fear catching in her throat, "I distinctly heard something move." She nearly jumped when the tower creaked and righted itself, more or less.

"There," Patrick said, in a sigh of relief. "I've got her balanced now. You don't have to worry about toppling out of the window anytime soon. That is, you shouldn't. I suppose some people will worry no matter where they are or what they're doing."

"What do you mean exactly when you say, 'toppling out the window'?" Sanya asked. She was fighting with her hands, if not her whole body, as Buck grabbed her arm and hauled her up through the trap door.

"He doesn't mean anything by it," Buck reassured her. However, he was thinking something entirely different. If that nut kills either of us, I'm going to sue his toenails off, or any other part of him for that matter. I mean, where did this man learn about engineering? ANM?

"Please, join me for breakfast," Patrick said, gesturing to the small, circular table in the middle of the room. "I know that table's small, but don't let it fool you. I can assure you that the portions are quite large, and will most likely stave off hunger for days." His tummy rumbled, and he rubbed it. "I can attest to that fact."

Buck eyed the table. Two might fit uncomfortably, but three? And look at the stove! You've got a teeny fire under a ton of steel and iron. I doubt you could cook anything in that mess! Still, something smells good. It's probably a piece of bacon stuck to the back of the stove. Still, it smells nice… And the way the stove is situated, it is way inefficient. I mean, I'm surprised it hasn't caught on fire yet. After Buck completed this train of thought, the pots caught on fire.

"Oh, dear!" Patrick exclaimed, rushing over to the stove. This caused the room to way again, and Sanya to grab Buck's arm once again. "Make yourself at home," Patrick said, as he battled the flames, a potholder in each hand.

"Erm…thank you," Buck said, as he shed Sanya into one seat and slid himself into another. This created some creaking, but no actual movement.

"So, what did you want to know?" Patrick asked, finally getting the fire under control.

"What?" Buck asked, surprised. Strange, he's never asked me such a relevant question before now. What's his game?

"I mean," Patrick said as he pulled his rectangular pan from over the stove, "that you probably haven't come out all this way to have breakfast with me. It's possible, I suppose, but unless things have changed since I left, there should be a nice halfway house in the middle of town."

"Yes, we do have one," Sanya said, regaining her usual sense of authority, "I believe it lies to the west of the true center of town, the marketplace."

Patrick put the pan, filled with fish and potato slices, as well as a side of some vegetable Buck could not identify.

"Mmm! Salmon, potato pancakes, and asparagrass!" Patrick licked his chops as he said this, looked over at Buck, and added, "I suppose you would pay a small fortune for this back where you come from."

"Did you just end your sentence with a…" Sanya started to interject.

"Anyway, as I was asking," Patrick interrupted Sanya, "I don't think that you came all this way just for a visit." He passed a plate to Buck and then proceeded to heap as much food as possible onto it. "Now, what did you want to know?"

"Well, you did say that you are the…Weather Wizard, correct?" Buck asked, poking a fork-like utensil into the mound of food.

"That's what I said," Patrick replied, passing Sanya a plate. "Do you want a forecast of tomorrow's weather? I think some good-for-nothing village idiot has that job now. Or do you question the profound wisdom of the weather watcher because he only relies on what he can see, and has no scientific methods to his reasoning."

"You don't like us, do you?" Sanya asked, looking up a Patrick with a raised eyebrow. However, her attempt at copying Rocky resulted in a more concerned look than a questioning one.

"No, I don't," Patrick said, plopping some asparagrass onto her plate for emphasis. "You're the pure minded, brightly dressed, smart, innocent town of knowledge, love, and compassion. That is until someone tells someone else that they think I use magic to influence the weather. Then everybody's saying that's why I'm the 'Weather Wizard,' and so away they go. If they had tar and feathers, I would have been the largest chicken on the Island. Just because no one knows how I calculate the probabilities of the weather, they brand me as a witch!"

Hmm, Weather Wizard? Branded as a Witch? There's a joke in there somewhere…

"And so, I have to live out on the Northern Frontier of the Island. I may just pack up and leave instead of sharing an island with such people!" Patrick bellowed this last part at the top of his voice, causing the whole tower to shudder. "But now that you're here," he added, with his usual cheery voice, "I suppose it's because I'm needed again, right?"

"Well, not exactly," Buck said, shifting his weight in his chair, "I was wondering about… Well, it's kind of silly, but…"

"But what?" Patrick asked, almost with baited breath, "I don't care how trifling the question is, just ask it already! I've waited for years for this." He leaned forward, eagerness plastered across his countenance.

"Have there been any storms or higher than normal high tides in this area?"

Patrick looked thunder struck, "That's your small, trifling, insignificant question?"

"Um, yeah," Buck said, staring at the plate in front of him. "It's kind of stupid, isn't it?"

"Stupid?" Patrick exclaimed, nearly incredulously, "It's the mystery I've tried to solve for fifteen years!" Patrick stood up suddenly, knocking the chair backwards. He rushed over to a large cabinet, pulled out one drawer and shuffled through some papers. This sudden movement caused the room to tilt to one side while creaking and cracking. Buck and Sanya simultaneously grabbed the edge of the table, but Patrick didn't seem to notice. "I first noticed this strange occurrence, five years after I got the job. You see, I had access to public records then, so when I recorded that we had gotten about 85 inches every year for the past five years, I got curious and looked it up. It turns out that we had gotten precisely that amount, give or take a few hundredths of an inch, for every year that's ever been recorded. Of course, only the Weather Wizard before me had recorded anything at all. He complained only about his shiftless, lazy, disorganized, and good for nothing boss, day in and day out. It was enough to drive any man stir crazy!"

So that's what's wrong with him!

"Anyway as I was saying," Patrick said, grabbing a leather-bound book, entitled, _The Weather Ledger for Aquinas_. "After I found out, more people found out, and eventually, just about everyone knew about my discovery. Some thought it was just luck. The smarter ones theorized that perhaps our instruments were faulty. Some even theorized about a jet stream that deposited so much water vapor, clouds, into an air pocket above our small island, so that the entire area got a precise amount of rainfall. However, one person stipulated that someone of the dark arts had control over the weather, and that meant that it was just an experiment until he could control everything else. Well, someone else said that it was probably the weathermen, so everyone got whipped into a rage, grabbed torches and brooms and chased me out of town. It was…unpleasant to say the least." Patrick cleared off a space on the table, a feat in itself, and placed the book there after he dusted off a few crumbs.

"What's that?" Sanya asked, spewing specks of food across the cover.

"This," Patrick said, wiping away the bits slowly, "is the complete history of the island's weather over the past fifty years. Well, actually, this only covers the first ten years, but I have four other annals which cover the other years. I'm on the fifth right now, and they all look the same." Patrick flipped open the book to a random moth. "You see, at the beginning of every month, there is a decrease in barometric pressure, a rise in humidity at the lower levels witch, a few days later, becomes trapped in the lower portions of the atmosphere. Then, the humidity becomes compressed and eventually becomes rain clouds, differing each month randomly, but always giving an average of 7 inches a month. It also never rains more than 12 inches in a month, and never less than 3. Now, do you realize what this means?"

"No," Sanya said, her mouth full again.

"I'm answering the boy…Mr. Goodwin's questions first, so let him answer me, if you don't mind..." Patrick paused and looked over at Sanya. "Have you started eating already?"

Sanya swallowed and shrugged. "I said my own silent prayer, and I'm sure Buck said his own, right?" She looked over at Buck.

Buck avoided her gaze as he mumbled, "Yeah, I did say grace."

I think it was about a decade ago.

"Well then," Patrick said, glaring at Sanya, "If you're really thankful for the food you've been given, you should make sure to keep more of it inside your mouth." Patrick swung around and fixed Buck with a glare. "Now, since I have already explained my policy on food spewing, I trust that you can answer my question with an empty mouth."

"No," Buck answered, making sure he swallowed his food first, "I don't know what you were getting at with the amount of rainfall or whatever."

Patrick sighed. "It means that we should have a random number of inches per year. Yet somehow, by the last month, the total comes to 85 inches, exactly."

"So, I'm assuming that's predictably impossible."

"Hell yeah!"

"Mr. Patrick!" Sanya gasped, "You just said a naughty word!"

"Heck yeah, then," Patrick corrected, "And don't call me Mr. Patrick. It's just Patrick, remember?"

"Yes sir," Sanya said, sullenly.

"So, you know what this means, right?" Patrick said, pulling the book off the table and closing it.

"Actually, I didn't even catch most of what you said," Buck mumbled, looking down at his now empty plate. _I knew I should have paid more attention in science class._

"How can you catch words?" Sanya asked.

"Stay out of this!" Buck and Patrick said, nearly simultaneously.

"No," Patrick said, looking back at Buck, "it means that someone somewhere is manipulating the weather. Why or how I don't know. Either it's God, or something else…" He turned around and put the book back in its drawer. While he was at it, he pulled out a piece of paper, and a bottle of ink.

God engineers the weather? Well, why not, if he can't do anything else… Well, I think I'll let him keep his daydream.

Patrick grabbed a pen that appeared to be made from a reed, and started writing on the wall. "Now…if you ever…get off this…piece of…rock," he said, haltingly as he wrote, "I would…appreciate it if…you would be kind enough…to deliver…this letter…to…the…Icikoreans." He finished writing before he turned, looked at Buck, and continued. "I heard that they have more scientists over there than there are fish in the Galation Sea. If anyone knows what's going on over here, or can do anything over here, it's them."

Sanya coughed as she swallowed some water down the wrong tube. "But, the Icikoreans are our enemy," she rasped, coughing bits of chewed food into her water glass. "Why should we ask anything of them?"

"You know, your mother should have taught you a lot of things, such as courtesy and manners." Sanya sulked as Patrick continued, "I also am not a hermit, regardless of what anyone else says. I know what's been going on here."

Buck stiffened. "And that would be?"

"We're being invaded by foreigners. And if we're going to survive, we'll need all the help we can get."

Su-Jin looked stupefied. "We're going to raid the Enemy's town?"

Hajime sighed, "No, you don't get it do you? It's not just a town it's the capital of this whole area. According to what information we could gather, from our radar, and scouting planes…"

"You mean, we sent planes to scout the town in broad daylight?" Su-Jin's forehead became beaded with sweat. "How many do you think spotted it?"

"None. It flew at night and glided when it was within one thousand yards of its target. Still, I agree. It was a foolish decision. And this raid is even worse. However, I can see what the captain's trying to do. He thinks he can raid the government's head quarters and thereby obtain vital information that we might not get otherwise." Hajime sighed. "I don't know what to think anymore. Are we really fighting for the betterment of mankind? Are we freeing the working class from the yoke of poverty? Will there even be any working class left after we're done fighting?"

Su-Jin looked over either shoulder, and up and down the hallway before lowering his voice as he said, "You know that you could be shot for saying such things."

"Yes, just like I could be shot if they realized that Hajime is a Japanese name, and not a Chinese one. These Vietnamese are not very picky when it comes to soldiers, but I don't think the others share that trait."

Su-Jin sighed. "We wouldn't have to worry about these kinds of things if we were at peace."

"I don't think that applies anymore. Even when countries are not at war, soldiers will still kill."

Su-Jin looked at Hajime. "You think anyone will die in this raid?"

"No. I know people will die, men, women, and children."

Suddenly, the whole tower shook and dropped about 15 degrees. Patrick stuck his head out the window. "What a piece of corroded sea slime! There's a kid down there kicking on my support beams." Buck slowly walked to one of the windows and peered out. Rocky was down below bashing away at the makeshift columns with a two by four.

"Hey, stop that!" Patrick shouted, shaking his fist, "I don't care what kind of initiation test you're undergoing, you're still destroying my own personal property!"

Rocky finally looked up. "What have you done with my sister, you foul creature?"

"He hasn't done anything to her," Buck replied, "if you would quit destroying this guy's house long enough, we can come down and show you."

"How do I know you're not in league with him?" Rocky asked, pointing an accusatory finger at Buck. "And why did you go up there in the first place? Don't you know with whom you're associating?"

"Look, he invited us to have breakfast with him, and…and his name is Patrick, not Mr. Wizard or anything. He's a person, not a sorcerer of the dark arts who's sold his soul or anything. Sanya's fine, and she's up here, so if you want to see her in one piece, quit whacking away at the tower's supports, and come up here!"

"You're threatening me with my sister's safety? You are scum!"

"No, I…" Buck began, then sighed and turned to Sanya who was slowly edging towards the window. "Sanya, would you talk to him?"

Sanya shuffled slowly over to the window and leaned out. "I hate heights," she groaned at Buck, before turning to look down at Rocky. "Rocky…quit doing that…I…I don't feel too good…" Then Sanya turned green and sat down inside the room.

"You're poisoning her?" Rocky exclaimed, his voice rising rapidly. "Die, you cowards!" He bellowed before breaking another support beam.

"Friggin piece of s…" Buck couldn't get out the last bit before the tower lurched again.

"Oh, dear," Patrick muttered as he looked at Buck. "I'm not sure that the tower can take this kind of beating." He handed Buck a piece of paper. "Remember, just give this letter to the Icikoreans, and maybe all of our problems will be over." The tower lurched again and Patrick caught the breakfast dishes as they slid off the table. "Maybe…"

_Rocky, you twit! If I ever get my hands on you…_ The Tower tilted until it was at a forty-five degree angle. Sanya slid against the South wall, while Patrick kept the book cases from sliding on top of them all. "Do something!" Buck yelled at Sanya. "All you're doing is look sick or scared."

"Both actually," Patrick offered, "in my opinion anyway."

"Your patronization is overwhelming, Mr. Patrick," Sanya said sullenly then corrected herself, "I mean, Patrick."

"Thank you," Patrick said, before the tower started tilting again.

"Either way," Buck said, as the tower creaked and lurched, "we can't stay here."

"I don't think that descending the staircase in an orderly fashion is out of the question, is it?" Sanya asked, hopefully.

"We're going to have to jump for it!"

"Jump?" Sanya squeaked, "Are you insane?" The tower lurched again, throwing Patrick out the window and leaving Buck to hold up the cabinet.

What have you got in here? Iron bars? I'm surprised that Patrick was able to haul this up here all by his lonesome. The tower sagged then stopped for a moment or two. "You want to hold this?"

"I'm jumping," Sanya said, matter-of-factly. She swung her legs over the window ledge and sat awkwardly.

The tower creaked again and Sanya grabbed the window frame. "I can't do it!"

Buck heaved a sigh that represented disappointment and irritation. "Do you want to count to three?"

Sanya thought for a moment or two and then said, "Okay, on the count of three…"

The cabinet slid closer to the window. "Do it soon, if you're not too busy!"

"What do you mean…?"

"Count Now!"

Sanya squeezed her eyes shut as she counted. "One…Two…" She opened her eyes, "I can't…"

That's as far as she got before Buck lifted one foot and kicked her out the window.

"I hate you!" Sanya screamed as she fell.

"Yeah, I think the feeling's mutual…" Buck grumbled, as he let go of the cabinet and leapt backwards, through the window.

Sanya, the wind knocked out of her as the landed on her back, moaned and rolled to one side. An instant later, she felt herself picked up off the beach and moving in some direction. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Buck's face. She looked around, and saw that he was running as fast as anyone she could remember, while carrying her in his arms. The next thing she saw was the Tower toppling towards them.

Buck saw the shadow of the tower fall across his path and knew there was only one chance for him and Sanya to live. He side stepped eight feet to his right as the tower came crashing down onto the beach. Buck heard an odd noise, something like the sound Rocky had made when he whacked one piece of wood with another. Buck whirled around, to find himself facing Patrick, who was grinning from ear to ear and was clapping his rough, callused hands.

"Wonderful, simply marvelous. Perhaps I should build another tower just like this one so we can all do that again. By the way," Patrick said in a lowered tone, "I thought you young folks are supposed to throw yourselves about like acrobats or something. I mean, if I were you, I'd carry the lady over to the exact spot where the window was going to land."

"Well," Buck said, putting Sanya down and scratching the back of his head, "I did think about that. The trouble would be that huge cabinet that would have landed on top of us if we had done that."

"Oh, I didn't think of that," Patrick admitted, scratching his cheek.

"Besides, I didn't see the point of it all," Buck admitted, scratching his hair as he saw Rocky start striding over in a huff.

"I hope you live to regret ever being born, Buck Goodwin, for what you've done to my sister!" Rocky said coldly with a small shake in his voice from the anger seething inside him. As he strode up, Buck could see the hatred blazing in his eyes. That is, they were, until Sanya clubbed him over the head with a broken two by four.

"Oww!" he yelped, falling to his knees and rubbing his head with both hands. "That hurt!"

"What in all of God's creation were you thinking?"

"Well that's a fine way to say thank you. I hope you realize that I would prefer you to express your gratitude in other ways!"

"Gratitude my eye teeth!" Sanya put her hands on her hips and bent over to look Rocky in the face, keeping hers about an inch or less away from his. "Did you instantaneously and inexplicably lose all manner of rational thought? I was in the tower you tried to bring down, was in the arms of the man you wish had been crushed at the exact moment when you wanted him to be crushed, and on top of all that," Sanya nearly shrieked this last part, "I was interrupted in the middle of the best meal I've tasted in ages!"

I knew you'd be thinking about your stomach first and foremost…" Rocky folded his arms and glared at Patrick. "…And I'm guessing he knew it too. That's the only reason I can think of that you would willingly go into that wizard's folly!"

"Hmm…" Patrick hummed to himself, "Wizard's Folly…Wizard's…Folly…Has a nice ring to it, wouldn't you say?" Buck nodded, but could tell that Rocky and Sanya weren't paying any attention.

"That man is just a kindly old fool," Sanya said, "incapable of doing any evil whatsoever, in my opinion, let alone wizardry!"

"How do you know?" Rocky snapped, "You've only just met the man. How do you know if he has or has not done anything in the past? …and what about Buck?" he asked, not giving Sanya any chance to reply as he whirled to glare at Buck. "You haven't known him for more than a day and a half, at most. How do you know what he is or is not capable of?"

"You're figuratively grasping for straws. Buck is a kind hearted, wonderful…"

"I thought you said you hated him when he kicked you out of the tower."

Sanya bristled. "Well, apart from that, he's wonderful." She looked over at Buck and her expression softened slightly. "You wouldn't do anything to "Take advantage of me," would you?"

Buck didn't answer, because he wasn't even looking at her. He was staring out to sea.

Sanya stepped over to Buck and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Buck, are you alright?" she asked, trying to spin him around before she just walked around to get a look at his face. It held a blank expression. He was starting off to sea with unwavering eyes, as if he was paralyzed that way. …Perhaps even paralyzed with fear. Sanya followed his gaze, trying to see what could make Buck react in such a way. When she looked to sea, she saw them. The boats made from steel.

*Damn!* Buck thought, grimacing as he did so, *I should have figured out this would happen. How could I go and have a tea party when I still haven't found out if the enemy is here, or in what numbers. Still, those are the standard V-12 short range modes, so it's possible that I'm only dealing with a cruiser patrol, or perhaps a small gunship. If not, I'm going to have to deal with a fully fortified regional H.Q., Battle ship, or even a Carrier fleet.*

One of the men seemed to notice the small group on the island because he said something to the boats around him and wave towards Buck and the others. Then he nudged his driver and gestured towards the remains of Wizard's Folly. Then the boat started to swing around.

Buck grabbed Sanya and ducked down behind the rubble pile, pulling her with him.

"What's wrong? Sanya asked, "You should be waving towards them. It's not often we have anyone from Icikor pay us a visit…"

"Patrick! Rocky! Get down!" Buck hissed. Rocky needed no second urging, but Patrick was still hopping up and down and waving his arm. "Patrick!"

"Hello there!" Patrick was yelling, "Welcome to…" That's as far as he got before someone on the incoming boat started shooting at him. Patrick dove beside Buck, hiding behind the ruins of his own folly. "..Didn't think that the Icikoreans hated us this much…" Patrick muttered.

"You dimwit," Buck whispered harshly, pulling Patrick back down when he tried to take a peek, "Those aren't Icikoreans!"

"Really?" Patrick scratched his head. "Funny, I thought that they were the only ones with steel beasts."

"Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but the Vietnamese have them too, and they also have a whole mess of guns to boot."

Buck dared to look over the pile of rubble and found he was looking into the muzzle of an upgraded AK-74. *Crap!* he shouted to himself, mentally kicking himself as he did so.


	4. The Raid

Chapter IV

The Raid

The Vietnamese soldier said something and gestured with his rifle, which was more or less aimed at Buck's face. Patrick waved with his hand, Sanya cowered behind the rubble pile, and Buck started calculating and measuring distances as he raised his hands over his head.

Sanya shivered. "Buck, who are these people?" she asked, turning her head slightly to glance at him with a worried expression displayed upon her countenance, if not the rest of her body. The strange, tan-skinned man kept repeating some strange phrase over and over again, with a few deviations once or twice. From what Sanya could gather, it was not at all meant to put her at ease. In fact, the man's speech could have been described as threatening. Sanya glanced fearfully towards Buck, but he was smiling strangely. Almost a cheerful smile, except that it did not make Sanya feel better. Buck had never smiled so broadly, and something about it was disconcerting. It took her a moment or two, but Sanya finally saw what it was that scared her. It was Buck's eyes. His eyes held a strained expression, a sort of forced friendliness to them, as if they barely controlled the passion behind them.

The foreigner, the one pointing the metallic contraption's thin, long cylinder at Buck, turned his head and opened his mouth, as if to say something to his fellows. He never got the chance. As soon as the man turned his head, all hell broke loose. Buck, who had been holding his hands above his head all the time, dropped his hand onto the object's cylinder as soon as the man had turned his head. As soon as Buck laid his hand upon the object, the mask fell, and Sanya saw there was blood in his eyes. Buck yanked the object, keeping a firm grasp with his right hand, even as the other man whirled back to face him. Sanya could barely see the projectiles as they spewed from the cylinder, producing dull thuds as they pelted the sand, to Buck's right. Patrick scrambled out of Sanya's peripheral vision as Buck grinned from ear to ear. It was a foreboding sight.

"Eat your heart out, soldier boy," Buck said, still keeping a malicious grin plastered across his face as the smell of burning flesh came to his nostrils. Almost before he finished, he jerked the man forward, pulling him as close as possible without pulling him over the rubble pile. Buck reached around with his left hand, drew his knife from its sheath and slicing both of the man's jugular veins in one smooth motion before the man could regain his balance. Before the man started to fall, Buck grabbed him with his right hand and used him as a shield against the shots that were now coming from the other Vietnamese soldiers. Buck hefted the man up and reached out before he started falling again. He grabbed the pistol from the corpse's holster and caught one of the grenade pins on the flak jacket before the body fell and pulled the pin. Buck ducked behind the remains of the Wizard's Folly as bullets raked the top of it. He checked his new found weapon even as he started counting out loud. "One, two …"

"Buck," Sanya cried, both fearfully and worriedly, as she tugged at his sleeve, "what did you do? Is that man back there dead?" She looked frantically at Buck's countenance, looking for any change.

That is, she was before there was a deafening roar and Buck finally turned to look in order to say, "If he wasn't, he is now." Then the world went dark.

Buck heard a dull thud and glanced over at Sanya. He turned back to peek over the rubble pile as he thought grouchily, I wish she wouldn't scare me like that. Seriously, fainting in the middle of a fight…Damn it, I gotta focus or I'll get shot. Alright, from the muffled screams I heard, at least two of them took the bait. Now, since they're using V-12 gunships, there should be a crew of five in total, depending on the assumption that they had equipped an MG 43. A quick glance told him that there was indeed an MG 43 mounted on the back of the boat, and that there were at most two more people who could shoot at him. And one did. That shot came from the left, so the guy on the right… Buck spun around to the right and shot at the soldier just as he rounded what was left of the roof. The shot caught the AK-74's magazine and disappeared in a blinding flash. When the magazine exploded, throwing pieces of metal everywhere, it rendered both the gun and its user useless. Buck glanced at the gun in his hand. _Berettas got to love 'em._ He smiled as he looked up. Just one more to go, and I'll bet the one to go is madder than the devil himself. The last man hopped up on top of the rubble pile and shot at Buck with practiced precision. The soldier would have gotten Buck, but Buck was no longer there. He ducked behind the roof and shot at the soldier, who was no longer there. Buck looked around, but then ducked behind the roof again, once the soldier started shooting again, from behind the rubble pile. Looks like this one knows what he's doing. Buck looked around the corner of the roof just before he saw the Vietnamese soldier take aim. Buck ducked just in time to avoid a hail of bullets. Time for some ingenuity. Buck looked to his right, at the remains of the corpse. Because of where the magazine exploded, only the upper parts of its body were unidentifiable or just plain missing. On a hunch, Buck grabbed what looked like a belt, lifted what was left of the body up and turned it over. A few shots blew by, causing Buck to flinch only slightly. Probably to keep me pinned down. Well, I'll give him something to shoot at if he really wants a target. Buck lifted the corpse over his head and plopped it behind him, where it was immediately riddled with bullets. Buck smiled as he looked at his hand. Just as I expected, this guy was carrying a couple of CO4 canisters. He pulled the pin and counted. "One…Two…Three…Four…Five…Six…" He turned and sprinted past the dead corpse, whispered, "Seven," and threw the canister towards the Vietnamese soldier, who was trying to aim precisely. Buck watched the man, as his eyes lit up with realization and he shielded his eyes. Buck shot as the blinding flash came and lit up the world.

Buck blinked away the spots in his blurred vision. The soldier was lying on his back, trying to aim his rifle with one hand as tried to plug a hole in his chest with his left thumb. _Huh, I got his left lung? _Buck thought, grinning ear to ear as he aimed carefully. _I guess this thing aims a little to the right. _Then he pulled the trigger, and snuffed out another life.

"Buck!" Rocky cried, "What did you do?"

"Rocky?" Buck smiled as he glanced over at him. "I thought you had headed for the hills. Still," Buck shrugged as he walked over to the latest corpse, "you're too late to be of any help." Buck bent down and grabbed a new clip off the corpse as he let the one in his gun drop. He loaded the magazine and reached for the dead man's holster. Buck hesitated as he touched the butt of the gun. _What's with the extended silence?_ Buck quickly jerked his head around and pulled his pistol close to his torso, ready to fire at any target. Rocky was the only one standing there, trembling slightly as the wind tugged at him. "What's wrong?" Buck gave an exasperated sigh.

"You murdered those poor…men…" Rocky said, raising his head to glare at Buck, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"And now you won't be murdered!" Buck snapped, with his eyes blazing with such passion that Rocky cringed slightly. Buck turned away and softened slightly, _Damn it! I'm shouldn't have to rein myself every time I someone yells at me. This shouldn't bother me anymore. But…_ Buck ripped the gun from the corpse and stood, "More importantly, we've got some people to save right now."

"The men you murdered…"

"You can't help corpses." Buck said, coldly, looking Rocky in the eye. "And that's what all these men are." After staring at Rocky for what seemed to be an eternity, but what must have been two heartbeats, Buck turned away. "No, I meant the townsfolk." Buck started to brush by Rocky, but then stopped. He looked at Rocky. The boy was a mix of anger, fear and sorrow that have haunted every soldier after their first taste of death. _I remember the first time I saw someone die in front of me…_ Buck smiled gently and placed a hand on Rocky's shoulder. "Think of it this way, someone might blow me away for you."

Rocky pulled away from Buck and looked at the crumpled form of Sanya. "I don't care what you do, but I know that Sanya would expect me to protect Mom and Dad." He sniffed and lifted his eyes to meet Buck's. "I don't care what happens to you or if you try to annihilate everyone, including me. But if the Capital's anything like this right now," he gestured at the battlefield, "I'm going to get my Mom and Dad out of that living Hell, and no one's stopping me!"

Buck walked past Rocky and smiled to himself, _Now, this one's a man._ Then his eyes widened and he tightened his grip on both pistols as he raced up the hill. _"Cannon to right of them, cannon to left of them, cannon in front of 'd and thunder'd; storm'd at with shot and shell, boldly they rode and well, into the jaws of Death,  
into the mouth of Hell." I always loved that poem…And now I get to live it!_

Sanya got up stiffly as Buck reached the crest of the hill, followed closely by Rocky. "Wait," she croaked hoarsely, putting a hand out as if to catch them, or hold them back. Instead, Patrick grabbed it and helped her steady herself. "Help me get up there," she implored Patrick, as the two boys disappeared over the hill.

"Sorry, but I have some things I've got to do here," Patrick apologized. Then his eyes brightened and he looked around. He reached down and grabbed a fairly strait, smooth stick. "Here," he said, handing her the make-shift walking stick, "Take my new walking stick. I'm not going to need to do anything with it anytime soon, so you can use it for now." He let go of her, turned and started walking away almost before she was ready. Sanya stumbled and had to cling to the stick like a crutch for a moment before straitening and glaring at Patrick's back. She started to say something, but then thought better of it. Even so, she still had an angry expression on her face as she half stumbled, half hobbled up the hill. She shot another glare at Patrick as she crossed the hill's crest and grumbled, "What in heaven's name could be more important than determining what is currently occurring in the capital of the entire Province?" She turned her attention back to the rocky path as she added to herself, "Besides, I'm still weak from hunger, on the account that I missed that wonderful breakfast!"

Buck made it over the last hill between the Wizard's Folly and the capital city. Behind him, Rocky made it over the hill just as, in front of him, the first house caught on fire. As more and more became lit, Buck mused to himself, _No, they're not catching on fire by mere chance. This is more of a strategic raid. Yes…most of the fires are in the Market and Government districts. They've really planned this one out. Still, they're only halfway done. If I hurry, I can keep those troika bags from doing much more damage._

"Dear God, have mercy," Rocky cried as he fell to his knees, "Please spare us from such destruction. Material possessions are nothing, but," he sobbed, tears falling to earth as he placed his hands on the ground and bowed his head. "Please," he almost whispered, "please don't let anyone die."

There was an eerie silence or a few seconds and then Buck started laughing. Not a giggle or a happy laugh, but a large, loud, unnerving roar. Rocky looked at him with a mixture of paralyzing fear and horrendous anger on his face. The dark, wild, lifeless eyes that bore into him made him swallow whatever words he was going to say.

"That's right! Start praying to your useless God! I also recommend pissing yourself and if you start now, you might just have time for a good, old fashioned suicide. After all," he said as he started walking slowly down the hill, "you might as well be dead for all the good you're doing."

Rocky stared after Buck, an expression of unbelief engraved on his face, even as he rose and started running after Buck. I…I wouldn't call God useless…I guess he hasn't prevented this from happening …but it's true that I will be of more help if I try to do what little I can. For all I know, my parents might be praying for me to rescue them. …No, they're probably praying for my safety, not their own. Well, God, Rocky thought as he glanced upward, I guess I'm leaving my fate in your hands. I'm going to do my best, and I can only pray for guidance.

Buck traveled down a few side alleys before he came to the business district, on the North side of town. A few Vietnamese came round the corner, and Buck took them out quickly, a bullet from each gun finding its mark in each of their heads. Buck stopped running only long enough to pillage the corpses. Each had a few Molotov Cocktails, and a few cartridge cases for the VP-39 pistol, which he took. _Not identical to the Berretta, _he thought to himself as he helped himself to a few gun magazines,_ but they're close enough for government work._ _More importantly, they're using Molotov cocktails. What's the old catch phrase? "Primitive, but effective"? Well, that makes it harder and easier. I don't have to defuse any bombs, but I have to shoot every Son of a Cur to stop them all. _Buck turned down a side alley just as two soldiers, walking side by side, entered from the other side. Instead of slowing down, he turned the pistols in his hands slightly, and used the butts to bat aside the assault rifles the Vietnamese pointed at him. Then he turned the pistols so that he rammed them with the pistol butts, and using them to bring himself to a halt. They grunted, doubled over slightly and slid back a few paces, but they kept their feet and reached in unison for the knives strapped to each of their thighs. Buck kneeled once he had come to a stop and regained his balance. When his knee touched the ground, he quickly slid the pistol barrel from their gut, up their torso and up to their neck. _Probably counting on their bullet proof vests to protect them, _Buck thought, smiling fiendishly. _Don't they know who they're dealing with?_ Rocky rounded the corner as Buck chuckled, "Tell Lucifer when you see him, that the Black Dogs are going to be the last ones to go," and pulled the triggers. Buck bowed his head as the fountains of blood shot into the air and rained down upon him.

Rocky shuddered involuntarily and found himself backing away as Buck lifted his head.

Buck straitened after the blood had finished spattering all over his back and hair. He turned and smiled when he saw Rocky. "Come now, Rocky, don't let my fun get in the way of you rescuing your family."

"You…" Rocky started, his eyes wide with fear and his voice a mere whisper. "You made it rain blood."

"The man who makes it rain blood?" Buck scratched his chin, blood dripping from his hair onto his arm as he did so. "Sounds good, but I think it could be better. I'll have to sleep on it. Later." With that, Buck turned and started walking towards the part of the battlefield where the screaming was loudest as Rocky ran in the direction of his home.

Sanya staggered up and over the hill just as the last of the fires were burning themselves out. Nearly a fifth of the city, mainly the commerce and administrative sections, had been charred or had collapsed into ruins She was just standing around viewing the extent of the damage when a faint buzzing sound to her left, in the east sea. White plumes appeared behind small black squares, a few with a point on one end. Sanya heard three sharp cracks and shifted her gaze to the beach where Buck was pointing one of the strange metallic weapons at the fleeing speedy boats.

"I'm not entirely sure what he is, but I know now he's either an angel or a demon in human form."

Sanya whirled around and half jumped, half fell when she tripped on her walking stick. "Rocky!" she gasped, "Don't scare me like that!" Rocky helped her to her feet as she added, "That sort f terror would have likely caused within me a simultaneous cardiac arrest as well as respiratory and/or circulatory failure within a matter of seconds."

Rocky scratched the back of his head and mumbled, "…Yes…I suppose that could happen…"

Sanya stared expectantly at Rocky for a few moments, then whacked his shins with her walking stick.

"Ow!" Rocky exclaimed, hopping back from Sanya and nursing his bruised shin.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened or not?" Sanya asked with her hands on her hips.

"Sanya! That really hurt!" Rocky whined. However, it was only a half hearted rebuke, with none of his usual indignance. When Sanya didn't say anything, or even smile, Rocky sighed. "I didn't really do that much, in all truthfulness…" he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, "It was Buck who did most of the work…" Rocky spat to one side. "…If you could call it that."

"Never mind about Buck!" Sanya yelled, impatiently. She leaned into Rocky's face as she screamed, "Just tell me what happened to Mom and Dad!"

Rocky stared at the ground and shuffled his feet. "I didn't get there in time to do any good…"

"You mean…?" Sanya's eyes widened and her pupils became pinpricks.

"No…" Rocky said, brushing off Sanya's fears like cobwebs, as if his shame was greater than her fears. "They're alright, and right now, they're helping the elders and their aids as they assess the total extent of the damage and what to do about it all. I left them at the House of Knowledge. I think that's the only officially administrative building left standing.

Sanya let Rocky stand there, shuffling his feet for about a minute or two. When Rocky hadn't said anything for three, she growled, "Well? What's the big tragedy? If someone died, you could at least have the decency to tell me who it is, so I can properly mourn with you!"

"I…We…" Rocky started, hesitantly, trying to find the right words to say. "Our…our house was destroyed"

Sanya blinked a few times but Rocky continued before the silence could become awkward.

"I know that it would be a shock to you, and yes, it should have withstood the small fire-spitting weapons, and those jars of fire weren't even used anywhere near our house, but apparently, some of the raiders were in a bloody rage. They just started to launch objects at houses and shoot projectiles with fire-spitters, both big and small…"

"That's it?" Sanya asked, her tone somewhere between surprised and incredulous, "That's what you're so upset about? I don't like the fact that we are now without a home, that is true," Sanya admitted, placing a hand on Rocky's shoulder, "But we have so much for which to be thankful, that I would think that…"

"Everything we owned has been destroyed," Rocky continued, interrupting Sanya as he narrowed his eyes and stared at her. "Including all of your clothes, so you'll be wearing that pair for a long time yet."

"No…more…clothes?" Sanya seemed to be paralyzed with fright at this new revelation. Her eyes widened, her mouth twitched and her voice squeaked as she stuttered, "No…clean…clothes?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Same…clothes…for…days?"

"Nope, I'm sorry."

"I…I think I need to lay down for a while."

"Yeah, go ahead, I don't mind."

"No…more…clean…clothes…?" Sanya muttered to herself, as she curled up into a ball. "This news will need some time to get used to…"

Rocky raised an eyebrow, "Did you just end your sentence with a preposition?"

"No…" Sanya said in a dazed voice, "A preposition…is not what I end my sentences with…"

_Wow,_ Rocky thought, raising both eyebrows, _this must really be bad, if it's affecting Sanya's grammar._ "Well, I can tell you, it's pretty bad right now for everyone. Right now, the House of Knowledge is the center of attention, both because it's the place where the governing authority's regrouping, and because it also happens to be where most of the wounded are gathering. I'm telling you, there was a sea of wounded and miserable people… So try to realize that we've been blessed today, in that none of our family has been numbered among them."

"I suppose so…and yet…" Sanya muttered.

Rocky continued before she could start pitying herself again. "Don't worry. Today's the day when the merchant ships visit, remember? We can probably get you some new clothes… money will just be a little scarce for a while…"

"I suppose so…" Sanya muttered, not really sounding any happier.

Rocky sighed as she started getting blubbery. _She'll get over it, _Rocky thought to himself as he tried to look interested in something, anything else. _I would have thought that Sanya would be more upset about having no bed to sleep in tonight, but then again…maybe she hasn't thought that far yet. And if not, I'm not going to tell her._ Somehow, Rocky's eyes came to rest on the figure of Buck, on the beach, with a man on both sides of him as a crowd gathered. Sanya looked up, her eyes still red and teary, as the crowd became audible.

"What's going on?" Sanya sniffed, forgetting her troubles for the moment. Not because they decreased in importance, but because her curiosity had temporarily eclipsed it.

"I'm not sure," Rocky sighed, "But I have a feeling that they aren't singing Happy Birthday to him."

"I'm guessing you're not here to sing me Happy Birthday, right?" Buck snickered.

"This is no laughing matter, Outlander," an elderly man said, almost snapping, "You have committed a terrible crime, if you are not aware of the situation."

"If you are not aware of the situation," Buck mocked, "I just saved your sorry old man can from being shot off."

"Don't use that tone with me, young man!" he yelled, slightly flustered, "Have you any idea who I am?"

_Obviously using his political weight to avoid showing that he had no idea what I just said._ Do you happen to be the President of the Americas? I wasn't able to catch just who I was fighting for since the election five years ago."

"No, I just happen to be," the old man seemed to puff himself up as he said, "The elder of this entire region!"

Wow, I can't believe he just said region with a straight face. Then again, he might not know what that means either. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means that everyone follows my laws while in the province of Aquinas. Including Outlanders!" As he said that last part, he both literally and verbally poked Buck in the chest.

"So what?"

"So, therefore," the elder said, crossing his arms with a smile of self satisfaction, "I hereby place you under arrest, in the interest of Aquinian Peace and God's Justice."


	5. The Trial

Chapter V

The Trial

Buck shifted his weight and sighed. Why'd I have to get on my high horse and shoot off my mouth like that? Yes, I saved the city, but now I'm arrested because of it, and then they put me in these damn…whatever you call them…Stock, I think they're called. Buck tried to get a little less hunched over. Both his head and his hands were firmly lodged in a crack in a large wooden board, with a leather strap tightly securing one side and a metal hinge securing the other. It's bad enough that I have to sit in these, but if this was just a piece of a blown off door they stuck on me… Buck tried making a fist with his right hand, but gave up when he was unable to do it. Buck sighed and looked up. He was facing down a broad but empty boulevard, running west from the House of Knowledge. There were no signs posted that it was going west, but Buck figured this out when, despite all the curses he shouted, he watched in agony as the shade receded behind him. Again, he cursed the Elder who had imprisoned him, and then left him t boil away, under the glare of the sun.

"You hear me?" he yelled, "I said, if you are going to take the time to arrest me, you should get on the trial, you swinerhunt!" Buck waited, but all he heard was the familiar silence, punctuated by the buzzing of insects and a cough or two from someone inside the House of Knowledge. _Perhaps I should start pulling out bigger or nastier words next time,_ Buck mused, half heartily, _But then again, he probably wouldn't understand them either. _Then for a moment, the buzzing sound increased, so that Buck realized what it was. _Someone's reciting a monologue. Why…? Oh, perhaps someone's filibustering for me…_ Buck rolled his eyes to the left and to the right, trying to get a better view of what was happening inside. _I wish they'd stop…_ The minutes ticked by, with the voice droned on and on in its monotone.

Buck started to shift his weight again, but then stopped. "Hey!" Buck yelled, turning around as far as he could, "I've got an itch here! It's very…itchy!" Buck rattled around in the stocks, even though they were chained to one of the columns. He also shouted a few colorful phrases before he saw two figures running down the avenue towards him. "Hey, would one of you guys scratch my nose?"

"Buck?" one of them yelled.

"Yeah, I'm Buck," he yelled back, squinting at them as he rattled his stocks to make noise. "Could you please scratch my nose?"

"You idiot!" the other one shouted, "Don't you know what you've done? You've been arrested and all you can think about is your nose?"

_That last one sounded real familiar…who was it? Henry? Jones? James? Hodgkin? No, it was more recent than that…Rocky?_ Even as Buck thought the name, Rocky was bounding up the steps of the House of Knowledge. Sanya rushed past her brother and wrapped her arms around Buck's legs.

"Please," she gasped, "Tell me it isn't true!"

"What isn't true?" Buck asked.

"I'm afraid so," Rocky sighed, a little more irritated than disappointed, "he's been labeled a manslayer. And for good reason," he added as he glared at Buck.

"What? So I'm being accused of manslaughter? So what?" Buck tried to shrug in his restraints, "I get it. No biggie. It'll take me five minutes to get out. Now can you scratch my nose?"

"Buck, have you any idea what you are saying?" Sanya asked, wide eyed with disbelief.

"Yeah, I killed some people and they don't like the idea of me saving their fat hind ends, so they charged me with it. Now can you please scratch my nose? It's getting worse."

"Buck, you made the clouds rain blood and the rivers run red," Sanya stared at him incredulously. "That's right out of one of the stories from the old times. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Yeah, I killed a lot of people, and it reminds you of some past war," Buck replied feeling his patience slipping away. "I've already said that a few thousand times, now will you please scratch my nose?"

Sanya just stared open-mouthed for an instant then she frowned and slapped Buck across the face.

_Well, that wasn't entirely unexpected, _Buck thought, scrunching his face a few times as it tingled. _Still, at least my nose doesn't itch anymore. _Buck looked Sanya in the eye and shattered her murderous glare with a smile. "Thanks," he said.

Sanya was slightly surprised, but tried to hide it by looking away and mumbling, "You're welcome. Mr. Goodwin."

Mr. Goodwin? Does that mean we're no longer on a first name basis?

Before Buck could ask, the monotonous droning stopped and a voice rang out from inside the House of Knowledge. "The accuser will be brought forth!"

"I suppose that means me," Buck sighed, "I hope the trial doesn't take as long as the preparations."

Two strapping young fishermen came out one carrying what looked like an axe. _Wait a second! Don't tell me they've already had the trial without me! _Sweat dripped off of his forehead as they walked nearer. Buck flinched as the young man raised the axe high over his head…and broke the stocks off of him with it. "What's the big idea?" Buck snapped, shaking his fist as soon as it was free, "You frigging idiots! You almost killed me! You could have just untied the stupid strap on the side! That's how I got in these shackles, don't you remember?"

Rocky muttered something about waste under his breath.

The one holding the axe set it down, leaning up against the column, as he scratched his stubble of a beard. "I guess so…"

"Buck, I think those are stocks," Sanya interrupted, "Not shackles."

"Well, if you…" Buck started.

"If you're ready, we'd like this trial to begin at your earliest convenience!" a voice bellowed from inside the House of Knowledge.

The two fishermen led Buck away as Rocky muttered, "Good riddance manslayer."

Buck wasn't listening to Rocky though. As they led him away, Buck said, "Sorry" and winked at Sanya. Perhaps there was a hint of melancholy, but it could have been imagined. Then he turned and walked inside, disappearing into the gloom.

Sanya stood stock still for a moment then rushed into the House of Knowledge.

"Sanya, wait!" Rocky yelled as he chased after her.

The boats came back, in ones and twos, every one of them missing men.

"There are, as of the last report, 23 men missing or killed in action," Seijuro Hajime commented emotionlessly as he thumbed through a hastily compiled report. Normally, he detested going through the traditional paper reports, but today it came before the computer copy. "It has been noted that those few corpses recovered have been found shot by only one bullet. From preliminary autopsies, it has been surmised that the assailant shot them from as far as fifty to as close as one yard away. From inventory counts, it seems that the only missing equipment were two side arms and ammunition for them. Oh, except for the soldier who was incinerated by his own grenade, for obvious reasons. From the accounts of the soldiers who 'just barely managed' to 'escape with their lives, it appears to be one lone soldier doing all this damage. If this is true, we could be trained in close range to middle range combat, perhaps a green burette or maybe even one of those Kamikaze Commando units that the Americans are so fond of these days." Hajime sighed as he flung the folder across the table. "Personally, I don't think it possible that one man could do so much damage by himself. It also makes no sense that he didn't take anything besides a handgun and some ammunition. There were much more effective and powerful weapons… Which must mean there's an American base somewhere in the area supplying him, or perhaps the natives are helping him by supplying him arms and ammunition." Hajime shrugged, "Who knows?" Hajime sighed again, as he thought to himself, _so, once again, just as I predicted, the Captain was just wasting both time and men._

"Or…" the captain murmured, "He chose not to scavenge any greater weapons because he didn't have to…" The Captain paced up and down the hallway a few times, before stopping and looking at the mainland through the bridge's main window. "It seems that at least one of those super men still exists… But not for long…"

"Captain?" Hajime asked uneasily, fearing what the captain's next step would be.

"I have no intention of letting the men die trying to salvage their pride," the captain sniffed, turning back to Hajime nonchalantly. "I want you to destroy it all. That means the city, the ships, anything that could possibly harbor this 'super soldier.'"

"But sir, you can't possibly mean that we should annihilate an entire city in order to kill one man," Hajime piped up, weakly, but boldly, none the less. "What if it was a few natives in league with the Americans that killed the men? What if he was just lucky and not a superman? Surely…"

"The orders would be the same," the captain replied, with an edge to his voice that made it clear that the order would not be rescinded. "We are either dealing with a man that could destroy or escape anything we send at him, or a group of people who have enough skill to be mistaken for an engineered soldier."

"…an engineered soldier, sir?" Hajime echoed, his tone implying that it was a question, not a statement.

However, the captain, either mistakenly or on purpose, acknowledged that it was a statement with a curt nod. "Yes, Hajime, somewhere on that small rock are enemies of the Empire. The Americans and those who aid them shall be destroyed the same way, in the end anyway… We are only speeding up the process on this small, but unknown island…."

_Unknown? What does that mean…? _Hajime wondered inwardly as the Captain continued with his soliloquizing.

"…You are to leave no stone standing upon another. You shall level the entire city. You are to obliterate it, so that no one could imagine anyone could have lived there at all. Is that clear enough for you, Hajime?"

"Yes, sir," Hajime replied, quickly rising to his feet as he gave his captain a nervous salute. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

"No, that will be all for now." The captain waved Hajime off as he turned back to a monitor in the back of the room. "You may make your preparations."

Hajime bowed and backed out of the room. He sighed as the sliding door hissed shut, locking instantly. "The worst has happened, Su-Jin," he said mournfully to the oil drums stacked hastily on the porch/balcony jutting out from the Bridge and overlooking the top deck. "We're now attacking a civilian target; that city we just raided."

Su-Jin stood up slowly, "Why…?"

Hajime shrugged, "The Captain says that it's to get rid of one American insurgent, but my gut tells me that he's just doing it to blow off some steam."

Su-Jin gazed at the floor with a distant look in his eye and he ran his fingers through his hair. "So this really is the end of all Sanity?" he moaned pitifully.

Hajime grimaced. "That's right, Su-Jin, 'Join the army and find the end of all sanity.' The saying no longer just an old wives tale anymore…" Hajime sighed and scratched his chin as he added, "…I wish it were only that…"

Sanya ran to and almost crashed into the nearest spectator chair. Rocky chased after her, grabbed her arm and tried to dislodge her. She held fast. "Please," she whined, "can we not stay for a little while? After a reasonable amount of time, we can go, but if we miss this…"

"Sanya…?" Rocky stared in disbelief at his sister. "You want to watch the trial? Why give that murdering Outlander that honor?"

"…Because no one else will."

Rocky looked around the make-shift courtroom. There were aids going to and fro from the judge's bench, each one with a clipboard in hand and approaching a different judge. They, besides the three judges and newly appointed bailiffs, were the only ones present at the trial, and probably the only ones who were unessential to the trial. Rocky shrugged, "Well, I suppose they have something better to do!" He tried to keep the impatience from his voice, but some came out anyway.

Sanya glared at him. "It still cannot keep them from casting silent ballots," she retorted. "If they can just write their cruel notes from afar without ever hearing his side of the story, I think we should be here in order to uphold his honor and virtue?"

"The silent ballots are to get an unbiased survey of what the local people think of him." Rocky shrugged, "It was meant as a tool, not a way to give a verdict. The idea was that if someone was unpopular, it was more likely that he committed a crime."

"Still, this way, he could be convicted without any substantial evidence that he is a manslayer and no –one will even think of the matter for a second time."

"Sanya!" Rocky growled angrily, "I don't need to be shown any evidence to know that he's a manslayer."

"And how is that so?"

"Because I witnessed him slay more than a few men." Rocky said quietly, but with a shouldering anger in his voice. He looked down at his feet and the room became quiet for a minute or two.

"So?"

Rocky looked up. "So why would I want to spend a day with the likes of a manslayer at his trial, when I already know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he's guilty!" Rocky's voice had been steadily increasing in volume as he said this, so when he finished, his words reverberated in the deafening silence. He looked around, and then hunched over, looking almost ashamed that he had shouted at his sister. He would have been more convincing, but for the angry expression upon his countenance.

Sanya could have cleaved a lesser man's heart in two with the pitiful look she gave him. "You've seen him be such a kind and gentle man, and still, you aren't the least bit curious to find out exactly what it was that caused this…transformation?"

"Yes," Rocky admitted with a sigh after a while, "but what if that was the real Buck, and the 'gentile' and 'kind' man was just a false front? What then?"

"What if the angry, vengeful Rocky sitting in front of me is your true person?" Sanya asked, tilting her head to one side and smiling softly. "Would I love you any less?"

"No...But…" Rocky sighed. "This is different…"

"If you don't want to become similar to him," Sanya said, in a sterner voice, "It might be wise to learn from Buck."

"I guess I don't have any choice," Rocky huffed. He looked around the courtroom again, glaring when he looked at the Defendant's box. "I suppose we do owe him that much…"

"Especially since you could not possibly give him any less," Sanya teased.

"Shh!" Rocky shushed her as all three of the Judges rose in unison.

"I know that this is the first time in approximately three decades since a court of this kind and importance has been declared," the first judge proclaimed profoundly.

I'll becha money that this guy's gearing up for a monologue, Buck thought, smiling bitterly as he rolled his eyes. Blah, blah, blah, stand up, sit down. How do you plead? Opening speech, I rest my case, Guilty or not? Man, I could write this stuff.

"…So please be patient with the court as we three humble Judges attempt to arrive speedily at a fair, clear and concise verdict." With this said the first Judge, the one to the far left, sat down and left the other two standing.

Next, the Judge to the far right began, "In all of the History of the High Court of Aquinas, the Highest court in the Province, since it was first founded in the Year of our Lord…"

Wow, Buck though unenthusiastically, this court must be ancient. They're using the phrase High Court for a small, last minute Lynching. …and don't even get me started on his choice of the words, "Year of our Lord'…

"…but even with the circumstances being what they are, we will do our best to see that even an Outlander receives God' true justice." The Judge looked Buck in the eye as he added, "You have my word." Then he sat down, leaving only the Judge in the center still standing.

"We, the court, hereby ask Buck Goodwin to answer for the twenty accounts of Murder, for which you are accused. Be forewarned, however, that additional charges may be pending, if anyone is found deceased, due to unnatural causes…"

'Deceased due to unnatural causes'? Then they'll be blaming me for every plague and storm, I'll bet. And murder? I'd hardly call defending yourself against hordes of better armed soldiers murder.

When the last Judge finished his speech, he sat down to join the other two in shifting through the mound of papers on the long last Judge nodded at a man in a corner as he scooted his chair up to the desk.

The man in the corner began typing away at an irregular and obviously imported typewriter.

"We are ready to begin with the opening statements," the last Judge said. He didn't say anything for a few moments, then stared at Buck, not bothering to conceal his impatience.

"That means," the Judge to the left added hastily, "You may go ahead and explain your actions. While doing so, you may confirm, deny, or not even mention your guilt."

One of the guards gave Buck a shove towards the center of the room. Buck just smiled and said, "I was just waiting for the prosecutors to say their bit…" Buck took a few more steps, then halted as he hastily added, "…your honors." He continued on his way as he said under his breath, _I wish he'd star first. I'm in no hurry to make a fool of myself. Still, I've watched plenty of Matlock…_ Buck paused when he noticed the extended silence. "What's wrong?"

The last Judge shifted in his seat as the right Judge smiled and the left Judge looked worried. "In this Aquinian court…" the left Judge began slowly, "…there are going to be no prosecutors."

Buck stopped in his tracks. "I'm sorry, I guess I didn't hear you too well because I thought you just said that there weren't going t be any prosecutors."

The Judge coked his head to the side slightly and stared at Buck with a confused look in his eye. "I think that you heard me correctly the first time. I said that no prosecutor will be present during this particular court of law."

_Hot diggidy!_

"Instead," the Judge to the right clarified, still smiling with a smug confidence, "I shall be acting as a Prosecutor, and I will make sure to keep that…slant to my opinion in my questions, my bias, and in my verdict."

_Man! There always has to be a catch to these kinds of things!_

"…And I will be arguing on your behalf during these proceedings," the left-most Judge reassured him. "This includes looking at the evidence from your perspective, or at least as close as I can get to your perspective, when coming to my conclusions about the verdict.

"And when it comes time for me to come to any decisions or to ask any questions," the middle Judge added, assuredly, "I shall neither defend, nor condemn you."

"So, what do you need me for?" Buck asked suspiciously, his eyes automatically narrowing. "It sounds like you could run this trial all by your lonesome's…your honors."

"That is precisely what we intend to do, Outlander," the Judge to the Right grinned, "The only thing we need from you is an opening statement and a plea, in order to begin the proceedings officially."

"Ah," Buck said, sounding partially deflated.

"Don't worry," the Judge to the left said hurriedly, trying to reassure Buck, "You'll be allowed a closing statement, if you wish it."

"No, that's alright," Buck sighed, waving off the suggestion. "If I don't get it right the first time, I don't think I ever will."

"Well, do carry on," the Judge in the center said in a bored tone as he wrote something down. "I believe the court chronicler is ready for your **official** statement."

"…and do try to keep your speech within the confines of the Christian English language, if possible," snorted the right-most Judge, not bothering to look Buck in the eye this time.

"That was uncalled for…" the left-most Judge cried.

"It will be stricken from the record," the center Judge agreed, "and it is advised that the honorable prosecuting Judge abstain from any such comments in the future." He waved for both the chronicler/typist in the corner and Buck in the center of the room to continue.

Buck sighed as he looked around the room. Why bother with keeping my language clean? It's not like there are any small children here. Actually there aren't that many people here at all. Enough for any sort of long-winded speech anyway. Buck's eyes halted on Sanya, sitting in the back of the courtroom but edging forward in her seat apparently waiting eagerly for an explanation. Well, if no one else will listen or care, at least she will. Alright, Sanya, get ready for the first, real speech of my entire life.

"I…will not give any excuses for my actions€. That is because they would all be lies. I will not deny the charges, because that too would be a lie. Yes, I did shoot and kill twenty people while on this island, and many more elsewhere. But, I will point out that those men I killed today were the same as I. I only killed other killers. Today, I shot twenty soldiers in order to save the citizens of this city. If I hadn't, they could and would have easily obliterated this entire city. You may say, 'that's impossible,' or 'how could you possibly know that would happen?' I know because I've seen it happen before, countless times. I have seen people die in droves. I have seen people suffer fates worse than death…I have seen…" Buck faltered as images, sounds, and smells came back in the torrent of memories that came flooding back to him. Still, he continued, even as he smiled and thought, _Boy, you guys can't even imagine the bullet I helped you dodge. Or did I just deflect the whole thing?_ "…More destruction than you can possibly imagine that exists outside this island, far beyond the horizon. I say that instead of prosecuting me, you should be thanking me, that I was able to stop anything worse from happening." Buck waited for a while watching the Judges bench. They seemed to be leaning forward in their seats. _What? You want to hear the gruesome details? Sorry, but you can't…you can't imagine the kinds of things I've seen. _Buck looked back at Sanya and saw her giving him a look of both concern and expectation. _Even if I could put it into words, the whole thing would be too much for you to bear all at once. _"That's all I've got to say," Buck said, shrugging and putting his hands into his pockets. Sanya seemed to accept this and settled back in her chair. _Perhaps I'll tell you later, if you still want to understand. But I'll give it to you when you're ready to gain that understanding. _Buck then turned back to the Judges as they settled back in their seats and began writing furiously.

The Judge in the center was either the fastest, or had the least to say, as he was the first to set down his pencil. "Well, I think that covers it all," he said, looking at the others on either side of him. "I believe that we have come to a unanimous decision and that no witnesses shall be needed."

The other two nodded as Buck looked at all three incredulously. "You mean, that's it?" he asked, his face breaking out in a smile. _I guess I'm better at this sort of thing than I thought. Maybe I should have taken debate in school…_

"Not quite…" the left-most Judge said hesitating. "We will now proceed to the verdict…unless you'd object, or want to present a closing statement…"

"Objections or not," the rightmost Judge commented dryly, "I think we should skip the verdict and proceed to sentencing."

"Hey, what is this?" Buck asked, as the ends of his smile dropped. "I haven't even pled guilty or not! And you can't just skip the verdict, that's what the trial is for in the first place!"

"Didn't we tell you?" the Judge in the center asked, raising an eyebrow. While you were making your opening statement, you were supposed to have either pled guilty, or innocent. Your whole speech should have reflected your plea…"

I wouldn't have called what I said a full blown speech, or a book. Heck, it weren't more than a paragraph!

"…as a paragraph should reflect the thesis, and a book should reflect the author. If I'm not mistaken, your plea was guilty, and in that case, the only further deliberation needed is the sentencing."

"Perhaps the defendant would like to restate himself," the left-most judge piped up, trying to help without being too brazen.

"He is allowed only one opening statement!" the Judge to the right snapped. "If he would like to clarify a point or two, I have no objections. However," he growled, his eyes darkening, "I will not stand this Outlander's continued filibustering when there are more important matters at hand."

"No one said anything about a continuous monologue," the left most Judge chastised, perhaps a little irritably. "Please, do not put words into the defendant's or my mouth, if you please."

"I don't really want to restate any of my speech," Buck said, hastily jumping into the conversation before anyone else could speak. "I'd just like to point something out."

"And what would that be?" the Judge in the center asked, the other two stopping to look at Buck.

"I don't want to change my speech or anything, you understand. I just want to state, for the record, that I'm pleading guilty or not guilty or whatever, by reason of self defense."

The Judges collapsed and sagged in their seats in unison, each displaying different reactions. The right-most judge stared at Buck incredulously, with a malicious grin spreading across his face from ear to ear. On the other hand, the Judge in the center just sighed and shook his head, while the Judge to the left just sagged, an expression of disbelief across his countenance.

"I knew it was different, the court of law they have Elsewhere, but can it be so different from ours?" the left Judge asked, still shaking his head.

"What is it?" Buck asked uneasily. Man, I get the feeling I'm missing out on some law that everyone else and their dog knows about.

"Here in Aquinas, there is no such thing as self defense," the rightmost Judge said, a smirk forming at a corner of his face. "The taking of any life in any circumstance in any way is considered a capital crime. There exist no exceptions."

"So, what was I supposed to do?" Buck asked, feeling his anger rise to his ears, "Get my can shot off? I was fighting professional, if not battle hardened soldiers. You act as if I'd killed someone's stray dog! What I did saved the lives of countless civilians, not to mention my own life. Doesn't that count?"

The rightmost judge laughed raucously. "Oh, so you, by your lonesome, saved the whole city from a 'fate worse than death,' as you said earlier. Ha!" He stopped laughing abruptly and leaned forward menacingly. "Do you suppose that we are as weak and helpless as to have to rely on an Outlander to solve any possibly violent confrontations for us? Once, perhaps, but by God's will, never more! Not one problem absolutely has to be solved by violence. Being willing and ready to destroy life does not make you strong, and being willing to die peacefully rather than take it does not make us weak."

"Now, now," the leftmost Judge intervened gesturing for the rightmost Judge to sit down, "Perhaps he simply felt that he was doing God's will in dispensing Heavenly Justice with his own two hands, as our brothers in Lekia do constantly."

"I don't believe in God's will anymore than I believe in him," Buck said darkly, almost snapping at the Judge's bench. "I gave up on such childish beliefs in God long ago!"

The court instantly fell silent. Even the "chronicler" in the corner stopped typing and looked up, slowly lifting his head to look at Buck.

The leftmost Judge simply collapsed onto the desk, as if from sheer exhaustion. The Judge to the right seemed to be barely controlling a contemptuous rage as he sneered at Buck. The center Judge was simply stupefied. He seemed to be frozen in place with an expression of disbelief fixed upon his face.

"I believe…we need no more statements from the…defendant," the rightmost Judge said, visibly shaking as he said it. "I think it would be best if we proceeded with the sentencing immediately."

"…Fine by me…" the leftmost Judge moaned. "…I don't think there's any chance the defendant can 'bury himself any deeper' but… as the old sage said, 'things can't always improve.'"

Man, Buck thought, slapping his right palm to his forehead, could you have possibly screwed those saying up any more?

"…and I hereby sentence 'Buck Goodwin' to permanent Exile from Aquinas." The center Judges' gavel was raised about a foot and a half above the table before Buck called out.

"Wait a second!" Buck cried, no longer enraged, but still a little ticked off. "Don't you think that was maybe a little too fast?"

"**I** have no objections," the rightmost judge growled.

"…Nothing I can do would change it…" the leftmost Judge apologized weakly, "…and I'm not sure I'd go against the sentence of Exile…"

Buck just stood numbly, finally out of anything to say. He stared blankly as the gavel went up silently and then came down with a bang.

"Hard to starboard!" the Captain bellowed through the intercom.

"Hard to starboard!" Su-Jin echoed, yelling to those who hadn't heard or weren't in range of the intercom speaker, if that were possible.

"I can yell at people without your help," Hajime moaned, rolling his eyes. "You should be down there fixing the engines, Chief Engineer, or at least the rudder controls so that the Captain doesn't have to yell at us at all." Hajime fairly spat out the word "captain" even though he said it quietly and casted furtive glances around the engine room as he said it.

"I told you," Su-Jin fairly snapped, "I can't do anything to those engines while they're being used. Yes, there are a lot of parts that need to be replaced, and the turbine blades could at least be straitened, but if you want to ask the captain t stop this ship, that's fine by me." Su-Jin looked over his shoulder and over Hajime's before saying in a low whisper, "Is it true that twenty three of our men were killed? And all storm troopers?"

"Apparently," Hajime murmured back. "Not that it comes as a complete shock. It's not like they were the best of the best at the job. I don't think more than half of them were barely a month out of the Seoul academy. No, the real surprising thing is that the whole town seemed genuinely peaceful. From what I've heard, not even one of the townsfolk raised so much as a pitchfork against the raiders, not even when their homes were burned down around their ears. And there were a lot of homes burning, let me tell you. From what I've heard and seen, we just about wiped out a third of the city's infrastructure. Then suddenly, out of that peaceful village, comes this superman who utterly obliterates the promising new assault team, and causes a disruption to all future operations."

"Yeah, I guess the veterans won't be able to rest for a while now," Su-Jin muttered, "but you know, they were always going on about how the new recruits were expendable. I don't think you could call the enemy a superman, since anyone with a decent gun could have killed them off. However, the captain apparently thinks enough of him to flatten a city with a ship twice its size."

"I've seen him do worse," Hajime sighed, waving off Su-Jin's comment. "I've seen him blow a motorboat out of the water with one of the Long Guns, and flatten a shack with the Anti-Sub mortar." Hajime shrugged, "He said it had something to do with moral. If you ask me, I guess it helped moral, but I always thought that sort of thing to be a waste of good ammunition."

"If that's what you thought, what do you think now?" Su-Jin asked, looking Hajime in the eye while keeping his head low.

"I don't know…" Hajime said flatly, his face unsmiling. "If he somehow did all that without any help, and with only a serviceman's pistol, as it says in the report, there's no telling how long he could act as a guerilla fighter, should we decide to stay. It's still hard to imagine, but still possible that we're dealing with a lone wolf."

"Still seems like a heap of trouble for one man," Su-Jin grumbled.

"It is," Hajime huffed under his breath. He looked over Su-Jin's shoulder as he continued, "I just hope that this is all unnecessary."

"Why?" Su-Jin asked, leaning to one side so he could look Hajime in the eye.

"Because, if it is a lone wolf we're dealing with, I have a feeling he'll be gone by midnight, and all this will be for nothing." Hajime's eyes were tired but knowing as he said, "Then all we'll have is a pile of rubble, an enraged native population, and one superman enraged and bent on our destruction."

"…and able to do it too," Su-Jin breathed uneasily, looking around once more to make sure no one was watching them.

"Raise the starboard anchor now!" the intercom blared at Su-Jin.

"Aye, sir, aye!" Su-Jin said, jumping at the sound.


	6. Exile

Chapter VI

Exile

Buck looked at his feet as the water tugged them to and fro. It wasn't like there was anything to watch though. The water wasn't as bad as the Hudson or anything; it was just too deep at the end of the pier to see anything on the bottom. Nothing nibbled at his feet, but Buck really didn't expect anything to come near them. _Nothing's going to come near them, the way they smell right now._

"He's been sitting there ever since the trial was adjourned," Sanya told Rocky as he walked up. He handed her a mug of steaming brown liquid as he sipped on his own cup. "Thanks," she murmured, staring blankly at the swirling liquid.

"You're welcome," Rocky replied mechanically. He looked over at Buck and sighed. "I suppose you want me to do something nice for him, right?"

"Would you?" Sanya asked, brightening up a little.

"Only if you asked," Rocky replied, half smiling. Then he scratched the back of his head as he muttered, "The only thing is I don't know what we can do for him. What do you think?"

"We could buy him an overcoat," Sanya suggested meekly, not expecting Rocky to agree, but asking anyway. "Could we? After all, if he should go to Icikor, he'd be very cold in his attire."

"The overcoats they have at the bazaar are too expensive," Rocky quickly replied, waving off Sanya's suggestion. Then he looked at Sanya with a raised eyebrow. "…And why do you think Buck's going to Icikor?"

"He still has the letter Mr. Patrick gave him," Sanya shrugged, "I suppose that he might deliver it."

Rocky quickly reached out and steadied Sanya's drinking hand as she brought it down from the shrug. "Careful," he warned, almost too quietly to hear, but still carrying a hint of annoyance. "I suppose that would be best," Rocky admitted sullenly, "giving him something to help him in his exile…"

"Would you please?" Sanya asked. Rocky opened his mouth to say something, but Sanya didn't notice him and so kept going. "Because, if you have not reservations about it, I think I know what he may need. He will most likely need a moderate-sized knapsack, a canteen, a scarf, if we simply cannot afford an overcoat, and whatever foods happen to be on sale, if we have any money left…and I can't really think of anything else."

Rocky counted up all the items on his fingers and sighed. "This isn't going to leave us with much birthday money, when all's said and done."

"Rocky," Sanya said, almost chidingly, "do you think that this scenario will be repeated anytime soon?"

"Fine," he huffed, sounding angry but showing a smile at the corners of his mouth. "I'll go do the shopping," he said, handing her his cup of tea, "you can just sit here, talk to buck and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid or commit suicide."

"Yes and committing suicide is not a stupid idea because…?"

"Well," Rocky frowned and looked at Buck. "Perhaps in his culture, it's not."

Sanya frowned then smiled. "If you bring the stuff back here soon, we can surprise him, and then he would have no reason to do anything like that."

"I still think it's a waste of money," Rocky sighed as he started walking away. "If he's going to Icikor, those rich heretics will probably make him king or something."

"Rocky, none of us are sure that they could be called heretics, in every sense of the word. They just happen to have mechanic devices that are beyond our ability to comprehend…which is rumored to be scrap metal parts held together…by sorcery… And Icikor is not a Monarchy!"

"Yeah, you did a real nice job salvaging that sentence," Rocky yelled back, without looking back.

"I was certainly not trying to salvage my sentence. To the best of my knowledge, Icikor is a republic…" Sanya's voice trailed off as Rocky simply waved without looking and disappeared between the shops and warehouses lining the waterfront. She sighed and shifted her weight as she looked over at Buck. He was still hunched over, sitting next to his shoes and socks, which were heaped in a pile next to him. She slowly walked up over to him, making no sound, save for the creaking boards beneath her feet. Even as she sat down beside him on the edge of the pier, he made no sign that he noticed her. "Would you…" she started nervously, hesitating before continuing, "Would you like some tea, perhaps?"

"Is it rose red?" he asked flatly, still staring at the horizon.

"I…I have no idea what you would this tea, but I know nothing that would indicate this could be referred to as 'rose red.'"

"Well, then I hope its PG tips," Buck sighed, stretching out his hand to Sanya. As she handed him a cup, he smiled faintly and shook his head. "Shaz woman, why can't you just say, 'No, I don't think so'?"

"Because saying so would not covey my true meaning."

Buck shrugged. "I guess so, but it can be damned inconvenient at times."

Sanya winced and drooped slightly. "Please refrain from saying…'damned'…I myself think the world would be better if no one used such language."

"Well, if no one felt like saying it, it would be a better world…" Buck sat in silence, watching the waves lap against his feet. "…those are the only brands I drink, you know…" Buck murmured, closing his eyes. "My Granddad drank it, my father never touched the stuff, and I was more or less raised on it." He looked at Sanya with unfocused eyes that were full of the melancholy he felt. "Funny, isn't it?"

"Why would you say that?" Sanya asked, feeling more at ease now that the conversation was on less important matters. "Many traits and habits skip a generation, like Rocky's…stature." Sanya laughed. "He happens to even be shorter than our mom, if you failed to notice it."

"Yeah," Buck answered, working up a laugh, "I've noticed." Both sat in silence far longer than Buck would have liked, before he spoke up. "So…what happens now?" he asked, cutting through the small talk like an axe through twine. "Do they just put me on a ship back to the states or something?" Buck sighed and crossed his arms behind his head as he laid back. "Well, it has been fun," Buck said, his grin broadening. "I mean, I wouldn't do this every day, but it was a nice break from work and the usual crap. Still," he became sober as he looked beyond the sky, "there's no doubting that I'll be needed somewhere, if I'm not needed at this very moment…"

"I apologize, Buck," Sanya said slowly, trying to say what she meant in words that would not and could not be misunderstood. "I should have not misled you so. You really think that the Elders will send you home?"

"Yeah…why…?" Buck said, sitting back up, as the smile ran away from his face.

"Well, I suppose I should be the one to tell you, that in the past forty or fifty years, there have been few outgoing or incoming ships." Buck's eyebrows furrowed at this and he frowned as Sanya continued, "Yours was the first ship from the outside world, or as we call it, Elsewhere, to arrive in a little more than three decades. Since we arrived on this island, all ships going beyond sight of the island have been neither seen, nor heard from again." Sanya sipped her tea thoughtfully.

"So, no one can leave?" Buck asked, surprised by this sudden turn of events.

"Mmm!" Sanya swallowed her tea quickly and shook her head. "I didn't say that. I said no one who leaves Aquinas and passes over the horizon ever comes back, and as far as I know, the same is true of the other provinces. Well, except for the Inland range, since the whole province is land locked. Actually, I suppose you could go, if your could find and buy your own ship, and find someone who might help you navigate the ocean to a place no one here but you have ever seen or probably even heard of but you…oh, and that captain of yours. What do you suppose ever happened to him anyway? Well, at any rate, you could never get out of the harbor, unless you found a crew as crazy as you are, who would risk the an ocean apparently full of those Viet trapeze…"

"Yeah…" Buck grimaced, "I guess I didn't really think about it…" He sighed and took a drink. Then suddenly, he looked over at Sanya, frowning, "And, if you're going to be a miss know-it-all, you'd better get your facts right; they're **Vietnamese**_**, **_not **Viet trapeze**!"

"Sorry," Sanya murmured.

The silence dragged on for what felt like an age before Buck sighed, and muttered, "Sorry I yelled at you. You were saying?"

"Oh, yes," Sanya perked up instantly, and continued as if Buck hadn't said anything, "Anyway, you have no need to worry about anything, Buck." She put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Remember, you have been provided with transportation, free of cost, across the Galatians' sea. Once you reach your destination, you should get transportation to any of the bordering provinces. Although I cannot be sure, I think after you reach the border, you have to travel the rest of the way on foot."

"The rest of the way?" Buck echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"You still have every intention of delivering that letter to Patrick's friend in Icikor, right?" Sanya asked, hesitating in case Buck wanted to correct her.

"Well, yeah…" Buck began.

"…And actually, it is surprisingly convenient for you as well," Sanya continued. "If you really want to go back to the place you came, then someone in Icikor might take you. Actually, I have no idea whether they have any ships or not, since no one's ever seen much of Icikor. The whole place is more or less isolated from the rest of the world. What everyone calls 'Icikor's capital' is just a small trading town with perhaps two or three dozen residents, right outside the main gates. Or what will be the main gates anyway… Anyway, all I really know for sure is that you won't find anyone around here sane enough to safely guide you to where you want to go, while being simultaneously crazy enough to take you there." Sanya rubbed her cheek thoughtfully. "Then again, the Icikoreans do have the most advanced technology today, compared to the rest of the island anyway. Perhaps they could lend you one of their steel beasts…I hear they have no need to be manned at all, and that they have a will, like the fishes in the sea or the birds in the sky. Perhaps one of them would take you close to Elsewhere, if not Elsewhere itself. They certainly could do it too…" Sanya shivered, "if you traveled in their belly…"

"So, why isn't anyone else as advanced as they are? I mean, even if they're so advanced to have machines…or 'steel beasts,' as you call them…shouldn't there be some people bucking for a little improvements here and there?"

"We really have no use for such things, when all's said and done," Sanya replied, sitting up straighter and smiling proudly as she said this. "We are, in all factuality, philosophers who hold the knowledge of the past as well as its lessons. From history, we have seen that people can easily lose sight of the essential things in life, when they have everything they could ever need provided for them. In short, if we had animals…or mechanical beasts…do everything for us, we would eventually lose our ambition. We would develop apathy and wither away. So, all those 'great achievements' would become our undoing. I myself would say that in a way, philosophy is a monumental achievement, as well as a necessary profession. Without them, we would neither think through many problems thought to have been solved, nor would we solve any problems inherent in society's established thought, customs, or tradition. Therefore, no change would occur, and no progress would be made. I make no attempt to assert that our society is perfect, or that it could ever be so, but I will say that we like to think that we can be the ones to get closest to perfection. Even if we never advance our society or culture, we shall always take pride in the fact that we are always making progress…"

"Man alive!" Buck exclaimed, chuckling and shaking his head. "Could you possibly be more general?"

"Perhaps…" Sanya replied, returning Bucks grin. "It depends…"

"Yeah, that's a laugh…" Buck sighed contentedly, and shook his head once more. "So, can you tell me what 'progress' you've made over the past thirty years or so? That is, if you even know what you're talking about…"

"Well…I admit that nothing has been improved around here, that is, in terms of architecture or public conveniences. Our ships have been re-engineered a few times, but mostly due to immigrants, so I suppose that shouldn't count…," Sanya shrugged and smiled weakly, "…actually nothing has actually improved in terms of scientific knowledge, technology, wealth or physical prowess. I would also have to admit that our most profitable industry, our merchant marine, has grown very little over the past few years, and that our fisheries have grown in size and number even less over the same period of time. However," she said, wagging her finger under Buck's nose, "you do have to admit that just about everyone here has a sharp mind."

"Yeah," Buck said, pushing Sanya's hand away, "I can really tell. So if you don't use your 'sharp minds' for wealth building, the bettering of your industries, or advancing your technology, what do you use it for?"

"For starters, we were the ones to come up with the Council of Elders idea. In fact, all international laws in existence have been created by the Council, and all governments equally acknowledge it as the best and most efficient way to regulate free trade and immigration between provinces…"

_Yeah, and how many just shrugged and said, "What the hell? It's good enough for government work'…Literally!_

"…And we do use philosophy a lot in debates and arguments…I suppose that's why our Merchant Guild has been so successful and continues to be profitable. We also have very good lawyers…" Sanya hesitated, then continued in a lower tone, "…second to one, actually…"

"You mean, second to one, right?" Buck corrected.

"No, I meant second to one, so I said it. Apparently, The Inland Range has a great lawyer who's been able to defeat the best legal minds we currently have available in all of the interprovincial cases in which he presides…"

"Yeah, yeah, that's nice to know," Buck said, waving off the question. Then he asked, with genuine intrigue in his voice, "Seriously, what's his name? Do you think he could help me?"

"I think his name is Doc Holiday," Sanya said, chewing her bottom lip. "According to what I heard around the city, the man's called 'Doc' because he practices medicine as a part-time job." Sanya eyed Buck suspiciously. "Why are you so interested?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Buck said, looking out to sea as a conniving grin spread across his face. "…I might want to see if I can't overturn this 'court's' decision."

"Buck," Sanya sighed, shaking her head, "I hope you have no intention of embarrassing everyone by running through the same trial twice."

"It won't be the same trial," Buck cried, giving Sanya an angry yet hurt expression. "This time, I'll have a lawyer on my side."

"Buck, I doubt that you failed to hear, countless times, that in capital offenses, such as murder, no matter how many accounts, the amount of people involved is reduced to a bare minimum. That includes placing the responsibility for the Councilor for the Defense and Prosecutor upon two judges of the tribunal.

"I'm going to make it not a capital punishment then," Buck growled, "Why'd you guys have to go and prosecute me for covering your ass, and make it a capital offense to boot?"

"Eh?" Sanya asked, slightly taken aback, flustered, and definitely confused. "What do you mean by 'covering your…'"

"Never mind," Buck growled sullenly. "Still, you people shouldn't prosecute the guy who saved your bacon…"

"Um…what's bacon?"

Buck sighed. "Forget it." He looked at the bottom of his cup and swirled the contents around, trying to separate the bits of tea leaves and the last of the brew. He finally gave up and downed the last of his drink in one swig. "…Why the shaz would you make it a crime to take a man's life at all, no matter what the circumstances or method? I don't know much about 'philosophy,' but I've hear that, 'The only absolute evils are death and Taxes. With everything else, there exists an exception or two.'"

"No, I think you have it wrong," Sanya said, shaking her head. "There have to be certain absolutes in everything. In justice, absolutes must about more greatly than anywhere else. It should be a given fact." Sanya looked at Buck's raised eyebrow and after a moment of thought, tried to clarify, "Say for a minute, hypothetically of course, that I stabbed you in the leg. Would you feel in the least bit grateful for that act? Would you not demand retribution for the action?"

"Could you, 'hypothetically' have some unknown reason for t? Such as…well, let's say there was an invisible snake on my leg, or a tarantula or something like that. Wouldn't that mean that you'd just saved by life because the knife blade traveled through by leg and killed the thing?"

"That is so farfetched…" Sanya started to say.

"…But it's still possible!" Buck pointed out, wagging his finger under Sanya's nose. _I guess I shouldn't have done that…_Buck admitted to himself, _but I just hate people who point and wag fingers, and I just wanted to show her how annoying it was._

Sanya glared at Buck for a moment or two, opened her mouth to argue, but then sighed as her stern stare melted away. "There's a lot of difference between that example and what you did," she murmured sullenly. "No one can justify the taking of a life. Not even with ignorance."

"Don't worry," Buck said in a patronizing tone of voice, patting her on the back and smiling smugly as he did so. "I know that you aren't able to argue with me for very long, because you want to be a teacher, not a philosopher. That and the only reason you believe the way they do is because they told you what you should believe, quoting the words of a dead carpenter."

"That's not true!" Sanya yelled at Buck, stiffening and nearly sobbing as she did so. "I believe what I believe from my own independent studies of the Holy Book. I have decided on my own, not because of someone's indoctrination!"

"Buck," a dark voice called softly behind them, "I hope you're not making my sister cry."

Buck and Sanya turned around to see Rocky standing there with a bag slung across his shoulder. He glared at Buck darkly, remaining stock still as the wind played with his hair.

_What is it with this guy and showing up at the right place at the wrong time?_

"No," Sanya murmured, trying keep her voice steady as she rubbed her eyes. "We were just having a friendly argument."

"I wouldn't really call that an argument," Buck added hastily, "I'd say it was more like a friendly discussion. Arguments are never friendly, but our discussion sure was…"

"I think you're mistaken," Sanya interrupted, her voice starting to return to normal. "Arguments are simply discussions where evidence is given to support either or both sides of the argument."

"Even if you didn't make my sister cry," Rocky growled threateningly as he glared sternly at Buck, "You still insulted my Elders, my religion, and my God."

"So what?" Buck growled back, "I think I have enough reasons to be mad at your religion. The only reason I was found guilty and exiled was your judges' religious biases."

"Yes," Rocky replied, rolling his eyes, "That's right. I myself thought that it was very generous of them to simply exile you."

"Oh, what else could they have done? Killed me?"

"Yes," Sanya said quietly.

"Well…" Buck mumbled, caught flat footed and now trying his best not to look too surprised. "That only gives me more reason to be angry both at your Judges and your religion. What kind of hypocritical men send a man to his death because of his beliefs, even though he saved their lives when he killed? In fact, what kind of hypocritical man would send me to the gallows just because I took a life? Not because I murdered, or committed manslaughter, but because I took a life to save others!"

"Buck," Sanya sighed, "You have no idea what just happened, do you? You were given a lighter sentence, not in spite of our religious bias, but because of it."

Buck fell silent for a few seconds. "I don't get it," he finally muttered, looking up at Sanya with an angry but tired expression.

"Excuse me?" Sanya asked, looking at Buck with a puzzled look on her countenance.

"…Would you please explain yourself?" Buck asked in a mutter, a little louder this time.

"Oh, why yes, thank you," Sanya said, starting to brighten up again. She scooted herself back from the edge of the pier, and straightened a little as she cleared her throat.

Rocky rolled his eyes and shook his head as he muttered, "You've done it now, Buck…"

"In a normal case," Sanya continued, "if we had been dealing with a native Christian, and by 'we,' I mean the judges, then they would be given a chance to explain their actions and make a plea. If it had been found that he had killed a man, he would have been required to support the family for twenty five years. If he expressed sorrow for his actions, and if the family truly felt he meant it, they could release him from his obligation by filing an appeal to the court. Had the man been found guilty of two accounts of manslaughter, he might then have to serve some time in prison after his twenty-five years of servitude to both families. Whenever and however a man kills for a third time, whether it be accidental or not, he is either marooned upon one of the penal islands to the south for the rest of his natural life, or he would be immediately executed, depending upon the circumstances and how remorseful he was at the time of the man's death, and at the time of the trial." Sanya shrugged "…or at least, that would be the case in theory. No Christian or native has ever been tried in Aquinas for more than one account of manslaughter. I myself think that it was only because you're an Outlander and an Atheist that you were able to escape the death penalty." She narrowed her eyes and poked Buck in the ribs with every syllable as she said, "Even though you killed twenty more men than the law allows for…"

"I still say the twenty-three men that I killed don't count," Buck grumbled, "they were murderous just like me…that is…I mean…"

"Two rights don't make a left," Rocky pointed out, "and neither do two wrongs make a left. Either way, you're going the wrong way."

Buck smiled sourly at Rocky as he said, "Yeah…that makes about as much sense as a screen door on a submarine."

"What's a submarine?"

"Oh, do be quiet," Sanya chided, "Let's just watch the sun as it sets…"

Rocky and Buck stopped arguing and looked out over the sea, past the land in the distance, and watched as the sun slowly sank on the Western horizon. Rocky sighed and shook his head as he finally sat down on the other side of Sanya. They just sat there, watching the sky as the color slowly drained from it.

"You do know, Buck," Sanya said quietly, without taking her eyes off the last golden rays as they faded in the distance, "that as soon as it gets dark, should be confined to the next outbound ship, and we'll never be able to see you again."

"Yeah, I know," Buck sighed, "One of the Judges introduced me to the captain of _The Minnow_, so he doesn't chunk me overboard if I say something wrong, or if he thinks I'm running away from my folks…" He grinned at Sanya, "And what's this, 'never be able to see me again'? I'll be able to see you, if you take time out to come and visit me sometime."

Sanya sighed. "If only it were that easy. All minors are required to either have special visas for visitation or for educational purposes, so that they can pass beyond provincial boarders or travel by sea. By the time I reach the required age of sixteen, I will have already been apprenticed to Miss Leah, she's the teacher, or some other historian…"

"Yeah, I get it," Buck interrupted, grimacing, "And I know who Miss Leah is. How could I forget someone like that? She wouldn't even talk to me if I wasn't speaking, 'grammatically correctly.' Buck waited for Sanya to continue, but when he heard nothing, he turned to look at her. She was glaring at him. "What?"

"You interrupted her, and you whined about the teacher," Rocky told him, "She hates it when people do that."

"Sanya," Buck sighed, "I don't know why you're so…" His eyes widened as he saw her slowly close and clench her eyes and her fist as she started trembling. He quickly grabbed her hand and started uncurling it as he said, "I know what you mean. When you're finally able to get a passport, you'll be too busy to visit me or even get a permit." Sanya slowly relaxed and Buck felt the muscles in her hand go limp. Buck placed her hand on the pier, but kept his hand on top of hers, just in case he said something, as he continued, "If we're only going to have a few more hours together, let's make sure we spend them…well…not being angry towards each other. So let's quit wasting time and do something useful. That's what I meant when I interrupted you."

"Are you sure you're not Aquinian?" Sanya asked him, smiling dreamily and leaning closer to him, "Because, you do seem to be quite capable of making people feel pleasantly surprised to be completely in the wrong, and yet pleased to find out that they were in the wrong."

"Of course he isn't," Rocky growled, eyeing the hand Buck had placed over Sanya's. He put a slight sneer into his voice and facial expression as he said, "Don't you remember? He brutally murdered twenty-three people!"

"Bug off," Buck snapped, annoyed that Rocky was still using the same excuse, not to mention still referring to him as if he were the Devil himself.

"Why should I?" Rocky replied indignantly, "or rather, how can I do so honorably when you keep laying your hands on my sister?"

"I was not 'laying hands upon your sister,' you twit!"

"I can see your hand from here, and you've got it lying upon hers!" Rocky exclaimed, pointing.

"Wow, what do you know, you're right," Buck exclaimed sarcastically before lowering his voice and growling, "…That is, if you're some crack head who's a complete retard! You know that I wouldn't…Sanya's a…look, here's a short pier so why don't you take a long walk?"

"What did you call me?" Rocky asked, nearly shouting now as he got to his feet.

"I called you a retarded crack head!" Buck shot back, now shouting as he stood up and clenched his fists.

"I'm not…one of those!"

"You are too, or else you'd just leave!"

"So you can defile my sister?"

"I don't think you or anyone else in Aquinas has the right to eavesdrop on my private conversations."

"Oh, so you'll only poison her mind against me and all Christians, is that it?"

"Listen, you're not really…" Buck started, but stopped when Sanya elbowed him in the shin. "Outch!" he bellowed, tumbling to his knees, almost into the water.

Rocky smiled smugly as Sanya snapped, "I am completely and thoroughly shocked that you could give me that sort of friend-ship speech and then start a fight immediately afterwards!" Rocky stopped smiling when Sanya elbowed both of his kneecaps, causing him to tumble backwards. "…and I thought you would know better? Buck was being nice, and he certainly would never defile me or anything like that…" Sanya looked over at Buck with a raised eyebrow and a worried look on her face. "You could never do something like that…right?"

"No, I'm not that kind of guy," Buck replied, rolling his eyes, "I'm not that kind of guy. I may have a drinking problem," he admitted with a shrug, "But I'm proud to say I'm still a virgin."

Sanya turned to Rocky and started to ask, "What's a…"

"Never mind about that," Rocky said sternly, his tone so serious, that for once, Sanya didn't question him. "I still don't think I should take any chances."

Buck sighed and shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he grinned up at Rocky. Then his smile dropped as he saw what was behind Rocky. "Hey, Rocky, What's in the bag?" Buck asked, pointing between Rocky's legs to the bag behind him.

Rocky was surprised by the sudden change in topics. "What bag? Oh, you mean this one?" Rocky picked it up and dropped it between Sanya and Rocky.

"Yeah, I mean that bag," Buck grinned mischievously as he looked at Sanya, "Is there something else you would call a bag?"

Sanya looked behind her and around the pier before saying, "I don't think so…"

_Oblivious, as always,_ Buck said to himself as he sighed and shook his head.

"Well…" Rocky looked over at Sanya questioningly. When she nodded, he continued. "…I suppose it doesn't really matter now," he grumbled, pulling the flap open, "We got you a present," he glared at Sanya as he added, "…or at least I did, since Sanya hasn't paid her half yet."

"I will," Sanya said, unconcernedly waving off Rocky's statement and resentment.

"I'm still going to get it out of you," Rocky warned her, wagging his finger, "even if you spent all of the money you supposedly had…like last time." Rocky said that last part in a lower voice, so Sanya couldn't hear him.

"So, happy birthday!" Sanya exclaimed excitedly, ignoring Rocky and his bad mood.

"It's not my birthday," Buck pointed out.

"How do you know," Sanya asked, poking him in the chest. "When does your birthday occur?"

"What is the date today?" Buck asked, smiling calmly.

"If I remember correctly, today is the twenty-seventh of July."

"It's not my birthday," Buck said, bluntly and matter-of-factly _Still it's an incredible coincidence that they're saying happy birthday the same day I used to tell…Granddad…_ Buck's face went limp as the numbing sorrow came over him once again. Buck dropped his head as he heard a voice from the distant past.

"I guess they don't have Grandfather's day, Buck," the voice whispered, sounding hollow at first, but growing in clarity and volume as it continued. "So, the only thing for us to do is settle on an agreement."

"What kind of agreement?" Buck found himself saying, softly smiling and even chuckling faintly, as he had so many years ago.

"I'll agree to celebrate your birthday, if you'll agree to celebrate mine." Chuckling, the voice from the past chuckled as it faded way, to the place from whence it came. "That way, I know that I'll get at least one present a year."

Buck smiled as he looked up at Rocky and Sanya. _How can I hate these people? They're innocent and carefree, like I used to be…They can go ahead with their grand speeches about serious things they know nothing about for all I care. At least they're happy…_ "Thanks," he said, managing to keep his voice steady.

"Don't worry about it," Rocky replied waving off Buck's thanks like it had as much meaning as the gesture. "Just think of it as your birthday gift, since we'll be missing a lot of the ones you're going to have."

"So, what's in here?" Buck asked, lifting the flab and digging around with his hand as he poked his nose into the opening. "What, was someone passing out Bibles?"

"Unfortunately, no," Rocky replied curtly, grabbing one of the straps and yanking the bag out of his hands. "I'm sure you could have used one."

"Yeah, I'll be—" Buck started, almost snarling as he suddenly caught Sanya's eye and her glare. "… Yeah, I'll be glad to pick one up in the next town," he hastily corrected, trying not to grin, but failing miserably. "I'm sure I could use it…" …_Perhaps for tinder, if nothing else…_

"That's better," Sanya fairly beamed at Buck. Then she frowned and bit her bottom lip. "I hope you got Buck things he could use without us."

"Well," Rocky sighed as he dug around in the bag. "I got him a used sewing kit. I think he can untangle all the threads himself…then there's a stationary…"

"Stationary?" Buck echoed, raising an eyebrow and giving Rocky half a smile, half a smirk. "What's that supposed to be for?"

Rocky shrugged. "They had a sale, and I couldn't pass it up."

"Whatever," Buck sighed, "I suppose I can figure something out… In the meantime, why don't you guys autograph it?"

"What?" Rocky asked, surprise in his voice, "What's an autograph?"

"He means our signature, Rocky," Sanya said, shaking her head. "An autograph is usually followed up by a personal note. My guess is that he wants a more personal memento…"

"But…" Rocky said, obviously stalling, "I already got the whole thousand page tome for Buck."

"I think it's actually more like one thousand, five hundred," Buck commented.

"Then it should be only fitting that you receive the first chance to sign it," Sanya said, narrowing her eyes. "I thought I said 'personal memento'? Now start writing."

"But I don't have anything to write…" Rocky started.

"You'll think of something," Sanya said, her voice turning stern and cold.

"But…I don't have a pen or pencil…"

Buck produced one from out of nowhere and offered it, with outstretched arm to Sanya. Sanya in turn took it and gave it to Rocky.

"Write."

"I…fine," Rocky grumbled, taking the huge tome and turning to the front page. "Still, why do I have to go first?"

"I have to sensor your message. Start writing."

"I don't have enough time to write it all before the sun goes down."

Sanya grinned fiendishly at Rocky and her eyes narrowed. "Rocky, are you a little chicken?"

"Don't call me little!" Rocky whined.

The waves lapped silently against the hull as the _Relentless_ glided gently past the ruble of the Wizard's Folly. A few men hurled curses at the blood stained and carbon scoured beach. Most however, were too consumed by their blood lust or excitement to notice where their men had met their first defeat.

"After all," Hajime commented, matter-of-factly, "You, and every other soldier, should always treat his most recent failure as his last."

"Well, that doesn't change anything," Su-Jin grumbled. "It's still a sore reminder."

"Yes, I guess you're right. I suppose we'll just have to make sure we don't have any more 'sore reminders.' And I know you really don't agree with the captains orders, but as a soldier, you still have to follow them."

"Yeah, I know," Su-Jin grunted. "I don't have to like them though, do I?" he asked as he slid an ammo box onto his MG-43D

"Crap!" Buck moaned.

"What's wrong?" Sanya asked, turning to look at him.

"It's getting dark, which means that I'm late to board." Buck looked at Sanya slyly. "Unless, that was your true intention all along… Are you really going to miss me that badly?"

"Not a snowball's chance in hell," Rocky said bluntly. "We're going to escort you to the ship personally."

"Personally," Hajime sighed, shrugging, "I don't like it either. The Communist Party was, in theory, created to free the working class, not destroy it."

"You think he'll change his mind?" Su-Jin asked, sliding on the laser-sight and punching a few keys mounted on a keyboard mounted on the side of the chamber. "I mean, I can understand an attack on a government center, and even an information and resources raid, but leveling an entire town from a mile or two away? It just seems a little...impersonal to me."

"You're right about that," Hajime laughed, shaking his head and shifting his rifle to his other shoulder. "But convincing me ad convincing the captain are two completely different things." Hajime looked up and down the deck at the others who were preparing for boarders. "And besides, even if you convinced him, you'd have to convince half of the people on this ship. I'd sure like to see you argue with those people. Even if you win the argument, they're more likely than not going to feed you to the sharks."

"I'd sure like to see you argue with those people," Buck whispered in Sanya's ear as they walked along and making sure that he stayed behind her. The whole area was pitch-black, only a few torches lighting the pier. Perhaps it was the torchlight that made the captain's expression so dark and foreboding. Perhaps not. When Buck looked around, more than a few of the crew had stopped what they were doing and were now giving him the same looks. "Even if you win the argument, they're more likely than not going to feed you to the sharks."

"Quiet Buck," Sanya hissed. "I may not be able to help you much, but you sure as death won't help anything if you keep talking."

"Yes dear, whatever you say is fine by me," Buck muttered. Rocky glared at him but said nothing.

"Captain," Sanya said with a pleasant smile on her face as she stepped forward, "I'm sorry if we kept you waiting…"

"Aye, you should be!" the captain bellowed crossing his arms in a menacing gesture. "Ah've already unloaded all the useless crap in the 'old, and I'm not taking on any more."

"What?" Rocky huffed, his eyes narrowing.

_Why do I get the feeling that the captain wants me to work my way across as a galley slave?_

"If you don't work, you don't get paid," the captain growled. "If you don't work on this ship, you're useless cargo taking up valuable space. Not only that, you're also a liability, and you're taking food out of my mouth."

Sanya frowned and hesitated before slowly saying, "Look here, could Buck perhaps load the cargo once you reach your destination?"

"Yeah, and what do you take me for? I'm not as dumb as you think apparently, because I know that the minute we drop anchor, this lad will be over the side in two shakes of a pussy cat's whiskers."

_Huh, never heard that one before…_

"Besides, if you knew anything about anything, you'd realize that we take on no new cargo at Quanah. Sometimes we hire sailors, but that's it. All of our goods come from other provinces or the plateau to the south of here."

"What, you don't sell anything there?" Sanya asked with a curious tone of voice.

"If you must know, all the markets have contracts with a Mr. Johnson. No one will buy anything from us because 'e's got all the trading contracts and sells all 'is goods under the current market value. And, the buying price is never lower there than anywhere else, except for perhaps goods from the Inland Range, but we don't deal in produce."

"Rocky, what's Quanah?" Buck asked, tugging on Rocky's sleeve.

"Quanah's the closest town to the capital, so a trip from the capital to the town of Quanah is the cheapest and the fastest boat ride there is. Except, perhaps, for a trip to Sheep Fold Island to the south. Now, please be quiet so I can listen."

_You didn't miss anything,_ Buck muttered to himself, _She's just standing around saying, "Think, think, think."_

Sanya was standing in the center between Buck and the Captain. Her right hand was on her chin and her left hand held her elbow. "What if Buck helped you load any cargo you got while here?"

"Lady, ah'm sure even you should know that this island has no exports. The only way this island makes any money what so ever, is by the school tuition students pay or with the taxes everyone on the island pays, for the Council of Elders and all that."

Sanya chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, but didn't say anything.

The captain merely shrugged. "Ah'm sorry, but there's nothing for you to do. We have all the food we need, 'ave all the sailors we want, and 'ave enough trouble feeding them as it is. No one's sick, and everyone's fine with that, and since we got unloaded, I guess the crew's ready. In short, we're all set…"

"Isn't there something else to do?"

"Nope, that's it," the captain said, shaking his head and putting his hands in his pockets. "Ah'm sorry."

Su-Jin heard a small beep from the mounted computer and hit the "O.K." button. Su-Jin also shook his head for the umpteenth time, probably wondering why it was the only button not written in Vietnamese. "We're all set!" Su-Jin wiped his hands on a red handkerchief, more out of habit than out of necessity.

Hajime slid into the chair, grabbed the two hand grips and swiveled the gun around. "Is there anything else to do?" he asked as he looked back at Su-Jin.

"Nope," Su-Jin shook his head and put his hands in his pockets. "That's it." He leaned heavily against the railing as he looked glumly at Hajime. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." Hajime sighed as he gazed up at the stars that were trying to twinkle. "I'm sorry that things didn't turn out any differently, more so than anything else, in fact…" Hajime looked back at Su-Jin. "Thanks again, Su-Jin," he said, smiling and patting Su-Jin on the arm. "I'm never going to figure out all this computer stuff."

"I'll write you a list of commands sometime," Su-Jin replied, shrugging.

"I'd just lose it and you know it," Hajime chuckled.

Su-Jin sighed. "I suppose I do," he said, sounding annoyed but wearing a smile.

"Attention!" a voice boomed from the intercom. "All men to their posts, including officers. Load all weapons and keep safety on. Long range gunners prepare to fire!"

"That's for me," Su-Jin sighed, his smile disappearing. He pushed himself off of the railing and headed towards the bridge. Su-Jin waved a hand and looked over his shoulder as he yelled, "See you later!"

"Yeah," Hajime replied, waving back. He turned to face the small, peaceful town, as it started to extinguish its lights for the night. Hajime began mumbling under his breath as his eyes began to become old, wise and weary. "Strange, they're going to bed fairly early…" Suddenly, he shook his head and mumbled, "This is not the time for me to get sentimental…" Yet even as he said this, he could not help but look mournfully upon the town and sigh. "I'm sorry," Hajime muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry," the captain shrugged.

"What if you had to take on more cargo?" Buck asked.

"Well, if we did, then, ah suppose you could 'elp load the ship in exchange for passage across the Galatian Sea." The captain eyed Sanya as he added, "…And you'd 'ave to show up in time to boot."

Sanya shrugged and smiled sheepishly at Buck.

"But you promise if I load the cargo for you , I get a free ride in your boat, right?"

"Upon me mother's grave."

"Upon my mother's grave!" the long gunner exclaimed, "I've never seen such an easy target. And it's so small!"

"I know what you mean…" Su-Jin said grumpily as he closed the door behind him. "I never expected we'd have to use the long gun against a defenseless town…"

"…Yeah, a defenseless town that is now the grave site of twenty-three of our men," a guard to the side muttered indignantly.

Su-Jin sighed. "A man did that, not a city."

Silence blanketed the cabin for a few seconds, then Su-Jin asked, "How long from the beginning to end, would it take to obliterate this city? "It will take about five minutes," the gunner said, emphasizing the second word.

Su-Jin sat down at his console ignoring the implications his subordinates were making. "It looks like we're good to go." He clicked a few keys and put on a headset as he flicked a switch on besides him. "Captain," he said into the headset, "We're ready whenever you are, sir."

"Good," the captain replied, over the intercom. "Target the west side of the north part of the town, and barrage along the north side. That sector was overlooked in the previous raid, so I want them destroyed first. Whenever you're done with that, then destroy the rest of the city as you see fit. We will be coming close to the shore soon, so you won't have to worry about the long-range shells."

Su-Jin switched off his headset before muttering, "Good strategy, Nero, just level the entire town, starting with the residential district."

"Yes, sir," the gunner said, coming to the equivalent of a sitting-down-attention.

"Find your target," the captain said calmly.

"Target acquired," the gunman replied, failing to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"You may fire…now."

The captain raised his right hand with mock ceremony. "May fire now rain from heaven if Ah'm lying."

A moment afterwards, if not at that same instant, a ball of fire traced through the skies and fell to the earth just north of where they stood. It exploded in a giant fireball that destroyed nearby, shooting debris outwards like a swarm of angry wasps. The swarm traveled for a few hundred feet in all directions until they spattered against the sides of buildings or fell to the earth.

The captain stood speechless for a long while, but it didn't matter anyway. No one would have listened. Everyone except Buck was looking towards the sky, lighting up the sky. "It's a miracle…" the captain said in wonder, nearly falling to his knees. "I'm so sorry I brought this upon us all…"

"Don't flatter yourself," Buck said coldly. "Those things aren't from heaven. They're coming from out to sea, from a Vietnamese ship. It's probably the same ship that was following my ship." Buck's eyes met the captain's. The captain's eyes grew wide as Buck said, "They're probably going to level the entire island …and anyone who happens to be on it."

The captain just stood and stared for a moment, his eyes full of fear and his mouth wide open. Then as the second explosion came, and every crew member dove for cover, leaving Rocky, Buck, Sanya and the captain standing, he woke up and started giving commands. "Alright, grab what you can get and get aboard!"

Buck, Sanya, and Rocky split up and joined the mad dash for the nearest crates. As Buck started lifting a particularly large one, he felt the other side being lifted and heard a familiar voice say, "Well, here's another fine mess you've gotten us into."

"Into the breach," Hajime muttered, "Into the jaws of death, into the gates of hell."

Once, a long time ago, he had wondered what those words had meant. These words had been said by more than a few of the men who had died beside him, saying those words with a chuckle as they felt the life drain from their bodies. Eventually, someone had been kind enough not to laugh when he asked, and even told Hajime what they meant.

"We say those words, because we live them," the man had said. "You know, it's ironic that an Englishman was the one who wrote them, even though they apply to all soldiers of every country, including their enemies. Throughout the centuries, soldiers are sworn to obey every order, even when we must march into the jaws of death and charge blindly into the gate of hell."

"Now…we must lead harmless civilians to those gates," Hajime muttered sadly, "just to take one man through…"

The _Restless _glided closer to the island, starting to circle to the south. The shore was about 150 meters of the starboard side now, and even from this distance, Hajime could see people lining up on the shore. They were most likely trying to get away from the explosions, but perhaps one or two had spotted the vessel against the star line, and were crowding each other for a better view of the strange vessel. As he aimed his machine gun, checking the computer once more, he couldn't help but mutter, "Now they're running into the jaws of death, into the Gates of Hell." When they had come within one hundred yards, Hajime just smiled sadly as he pulled the trigger, giving the signal for all of the machine guns to erupt in a hellish blaze.

A hellish blaze glowed in the east even as Buck remembered where he had heard that voice before. "Patrick?" Buck exclaimed, "What are you doing here? I thought you were still trying to build a tower out of that pile of rocks!"

"I was," Patrick said as he began backing towards the ship. "Unfortunately, I need some supplies before I can continue. You know, stuff like wood, which let me tell you doesn't come cheaply on this island…not the entire Mainland, mind you, just this island, the one we're on right now… and nails, which don't come cheaply either, which makes sense, because I don't think anything on this island, the one we're on, comes cheaply…except for perhaps seafood…and I also have the money in order to buy the supplies."

_Still,_ Buck thought, _It is kind of suspicious that you just happened to be here right when you needed to, and on the very same ship as me._

"Well, Ah'm glad I don't have to introduce you two," the captain growled, brushing by as he carried a few bolts of cloth. "But if you don't' mind, I'd like it if you just shut your gabbers and started loading the cargo before we all die!"

"And a pleasant evening to you," Patrick said politely, "Captain…?"

"Macgregor!" the captain bellowed.

"Regular captain Ahab, isn't he?" Buck growled.

"Who's 'Captain Ahab'?" Sanya asked as she walked briskly past with a rack of wines.

"A mean old coot, rip, geezer, or whatever you call an old guy!" Buck yelled back.

"You don't have to be so mean about it!" Sanya yelled indignantly over her shoulder.

"…And I used to think that was the cutest thing about her…" Buck sighed, shaking his head as much as he could.

"You thought Sanya was cute?" Patrick asked, his tone filled with interest and curiosity.

"No, of course not," Buck snapped, exasperated.

"I don't hear you two working!" Captain Macgregor yelled as he hurried past them once more.

"Yes Buck," Patrick agreed, "I think it would be wise if we didn't stand here chatting all night."

_Yeah, sorry about that,_ Buck thought bitterly. But even as they started moving towards the ramp, Buck looked over to his right and saw a boy running up the pier, half his face and body covered in sot, trying to catch his breath as he stumbled up to the captain.

"…They've come…a huge metal monster…spewing projectiles into our boats…ripping them apart…"

"Buck, what's happening, I can't see!" Patrick whined impatiently.

"See for yourself," Buck growled, half out of annoyance, half out of fear. He started walking around Patrick, maneuvering himself while still holding onto the crate, so that he could begin backing up the ramp. However, as soon as he started backing up towards the ramp, Patrick refused to move. "Patrick…!"

"Buck," Patrick said calmly, "I think it would be wise if we…"

"What do you think I'm doing right now?" Buck's worry was now drowned out by impatience as other men ran and leaped up the ramp in front of them, leaving them the only ones on the dock besides a few who began unfettering the ship.

"Buck," Patrick warned, "I think…"

"Shove it!" Buck growled, trying to pick up the pace. Yet, even as he started up the ramp backwards, he saw the last of the tethers being thrown off the pylons and the men who untied them, leaping aboard. As he walked, he looked around, trying to find a way to avoid the inevitable.

"I don't think we'll make it," Patrick pointed out candidly, "If I were…"

"Well, you aren't," Buck snapped. He turned his head to say something else when he saw the rope handle not two inches from his face. "Patrick, let go of the box!" he yelled, even as he felt the ramp move beneath him, causing him to stop in his tracks, lest the ramp slip.

"Box?"

"Box…crate, the thing we're holding, dammit!" Buck yelled as he saw the last of the ropes being untied. Buck felt the box get heavier as Patrick let go. Using every ounce of strength he could muster, he threw the box up and kicked up his feet as he fell. The box merely stayed at about the same height as before, and traveled a small distance towards the ship. As Buck fell, he twisted his body so that he landed on his head and elbows, making himself something like a tripod, with his head towards Patrick. He felt his feet touch the box, and with the last of his strength, thrust the box towards the boat. As he had hoped and feared, the box landed in the boat, blocking the entrance and protruding over the edge of the deck. As soon as his feet touched the deck, he curled his legs under him and unfastened one of the ends of the four foot strap on his knapsack. Then, as he sprung backwards, the ramp gave out, falling into the water as Buck threw the knapsack, with everything but a prayer on it. It landed on the inside the stiff rope loop, touching nothing but air as it swished through. Grapping the both ends as he smacked against the hull of the ship, Buck both swore through his teeth and sighed his relief. Then his sigh turned into a huff as Patrick leaped and grabbed hold of Buck's waist. The crate lurched ominously, but held, thankfully. Then _The_ _Minnow_ gained speed as it caught the wind and flew from the docks and into the sea of darkness.

"Douse the lights!" the captain hissed.

"So, what do we do now that no one can see us and we can't call for help until that steel beast is out of hearing range?" Patrick asked.

Buck tried to shrug, "We wait."

After a minute, Patrick said, "My arms are getting sore."

"Well, my arm's about to fall off."

"Really?"

"No."

"Anyway, what would that prove? You're a strapping young boy, and I'm an 'old geezer,' as you call it."

"I wasn't trying to prove anything," Buck snapped. "I was just pointing out that my arm was hurting too."

"Yes you were," Patrick shot back. "You were trying to say, 'Look at me! I've only got one arm from which to dangle and it hurts, so shut up and quit whining!'"

"I wasn't saying that, and I wasn't trying to imply anything," Buck yelled back, his whole body shaking as he yelled, "I was just saying my arm was tired. However, I think it would be a good idea if you would just 'shut up and quit whining!'"

"Alright, alright," Patrick soothed hastily, getting a better grip on Buck's swaying body.

There were a few moments of blissful silence before Buck muttered, "But you're right in that I'm the only one using one arm…"

"You see!" Patrick exclaimed, letting go with one hand so he could wag a finger in Buck's face, and having wagged, the finger, along with the hand, moved back to its previous position. However, Patrick slipped, and only managed to grab onto the back of Buck's pants as his feet dragged through the water.

"Patrick!"

"What? It's not my fault if you were speaking Whinese."

"What? Whinese? What does that have to do with anything?"

"You were speaking what all the citizens of Whina speak, and they're all whiners, so I just pointed it out."

"I would have thought you would know now that it's not polite to point…" Buck grumbled sarcastically, "…and C'mon, there can't be an entire country called Whina or a language called Whinese!"

"Apparently, there is, because you're speaking it!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!" Patrick yelled weakly as Buck's pants began to sag and the belt began to stretch.

"Well, quit your whining about my whining!"

"Only after you quit whining about me whining about your whining!"

"Patrick!"

"Sorry, I can't understand you. You see, I don't speak Whinese."

"Patrick!"

"If Ah 'auled you two lubbers aboard," Captain Macgregor sighed, as he leaned over the rail to look them in the eye, "Would you stop arguing?"

"Instantly," Patrick said, suddenly emotionless.

"Please, pull us up!" Buck moaned, "I do whatever you want, so long as I don't lose my pants."

"Alright, he's pulling us up, just keep your shirt on," Patrick scolded Buck. As Buck's pants slipped a little more, Patrick hastily added, "…and while you're at it, please keep your pants on as well."

"Patrick…" Buck half moaned, half sighed.

Captain Macgregor just sighed and shook his head. "Ah know Ah'm going to regret ever 'elping you two," he moaned as he rolled the crate over into the boat, hauling up Buck and Patrick at the same time.

"We thank you for your hospitality and generosity," Patrick sighed, rolling onto his back and smiling contentedly. "One cannot express how…refreshed I am, and how revitalized I feel."

"Ah…You're welcome…" Captain Macgregor mumbled, scratching his head in a puzzled manner.

"Hey, Patrick," Buck asked, giving Patrick a small nudge, "do you see Sanya or Rocky?"

Patrick looked to the left towards the aft, and nudged Buck as he pointed. "I think those backsides look familiar."

"Thanks," Buck chuckled, as he grinned and shook his head. He stood up and walked over to the two, his sneakers squeaking on the wet floorboards. "Well, I've gotten my workout for the week," he chuckled as he came abreast of them, "Perhaps even for this month…" Then he saw it. The thing which held their gazes faster than iron shackles. It was the inferno, created by the city. By now, there was nothing more than a few feet perhaps of once two or three story buildings. Everything that could burn was, creating little pockets of light around the blaze that used to be the market. In a strange way, it was beautiful to behold, with a ring of smaller lights surrounding an artificial sun. _Then again,_ Buck thought, looking first at Sanya's expressionless face to the look of horror on Rocky's, _I guess I've overcome all the shock of seeing an entire world wiped out in a single instant. That's right, isn't it? This was your entire world? Well, I'm sorry, but I've seen so many of these that now I see a fire burning. You only see friends, family, and homes being consumed, and you are consumed with fear and agony. I hope, for your sake, that you never become so numb and unfeeling as I._

"Dear God in heaven," a familiar voice said behind him, "Have mercy upon us. Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, for we have sinned."

"You got that right," Buck scoffed under his breath, "I hate to say 'I told you so,' so I won't."

Apparently, he was not quiet enough, for he felt someone grab his shoulders almost instantly and spin him around. To his surprise, Buck found himself facing the short, curly-haired blond kid from the night before.

"P.J.?" Buck asked, knowing full well he was right as he asked it. "Is that you? Well, I for one am glad you were able to make it aboard." _Actually, I probably have the same amount of contempt for you as anyone else on this island, almost, except for those Judges. Shaz! I'd hate to see their faces around here. I'd say what I thought about them, as long as it wasn't in front of witnesses._

"You did this to us!" P.J. cried, almost sobbing, as he grabbed Buck by the shirt.

"Come again?" Buck asked, mildly surprised.

"You're the one who called down God's wrath upon us all!" P.J. exclaimed, his eyes flaring as he choked back sobs.

_Alright, that is it. I've had it. I could stand saying race, the girl trying to give me a lecture about ethics, and even those damnable high horse judges. _Buck's eyes began to widen and his nostrils began to flare as he thought, _but I've had all I can stand, and I can't stand anymore! Especially from a snot-nosed kid._ Buck's arm shot out like a snake and caught P.J. by the throat, half shoving, half throwing P.J. into the guardrail. "Now listen here," Buck whispered in a barely audible voice, "I killed twenty-three people, yes. So sue me. In fact, while you're at it, why don't you just sue me for the hundreds or perhaps thousands of people I killed before I got here! But you cannot possibly nail this one on me! Five professional, blood-thirsty soldiers come and attack my friends,-your friends,-even if you don't could the whole population of your now all but obliterated town, and so I save their sorry cans from being blown away. And now, everyone in their brother is biting my head off because I did my best to stop this from happening." Buck jabbed his left thumb towards the receding capital. "I am a soldier. I create corpses. My job is to protect citizens from harm by destroying all enemy forces. I protect the weak by destroying the strong. I am a protector of the innocent and slayer of the guilty. No matter how you say it, it comes out the same way: I kill a few so that many may live. What's so wrong about that? Yes, it isn't the best job in the world, but the needs of the many are greater than the needs of the few, or the one. Sure, every once in a while, I kill more than I save, but when I do that, I still never do anything like that." Buck threw his arm out and pointed while looking P.J. in the eye. "You may think me the scum of the earth, but I have principle, moral, and honor. I am proud of what I do, and God plays no role in what I do, and for that, I am damned proud of what I do. And if I hear you dishonor me or my fellow soldiers, I swear I'll…"

"You'll what?" P.J. asked with a smirk. "Kill me?" he gestured about the ship. "That sure as God wouldn't help your case. In fact," he grinned maliciously, "If these people witnessed another murder, they'd tear you limb from limb and hang what's left from the yard arm."

Buck looked around at those who weren't watching the island. Actually, only two or three people were watching the island recede into the distance. Rocky and Sanya were among those watching him intently. Rocky looked as if he was ready to be the first to pounce while Sanya looked as scared as could be. Buck looked back at P.J., forcing that cold, hard anger away as it welled up inside.

Buck suddenly grinned back, chuckling a few times. Then he just burst out laughing. He released his grip on P.J.'s throat and patted him on the shoulder. "Why in the world would I want to kill you?" Buck asked wiping away a tear. "I don't think you really deserve to die…"

"I'm so glad you could see it my way," P.J. smirked as he slowly dusted off his shoulder. "Now, if you would formally apologize…"

"Oh, did you think that was an apology?" Buck asked, the laughter draining from his voice as his grin became insanely malicious. "I'm not apologizing. Death is a refuge for cowards like you, and it would be too easy for you. I want you to experience worse things in your lifetime."

P.J. hesitated for an instant, then smiled nervously, saying, "What an idea. What could possibly be worse than dying? Killing?"

"Yes." Buck's face softened slightly. "Killing countless people, not to mention watching them die in front of you in horrible ways. But then again, when men have seen enough killings, they invent other, worse sins. Slavery, abortion, drugs, starvation, pestilence, disease, women…" he looked at Sanya as he said, "…well, being betrayed by a woman anyway… Then there are nursing homes and homeless shelters. Rape is bad I suppose, but better than being paralyzed from the neck down…" Buck stroked his chin as his voice trailed off. He looked back at the kindling flame in the distance, watching the light slowly grow dimmer as they sailed farther away and the inferno began to die down. "I myself have been at one time or another, a witness, a victim, or an accessory in all but one of these crimes, and from what little I know about this place, this is the first time you've even heard of most of these, "Sins." The saddest part is that these are entirely man-made…except for the woman's betrayal…and 'Heavenly Justice,' has no bearing or affect upon them." Buck sneered and he whispered, "So, now you know several things, if not all the things worse than death." Buck's grin became ominously wide as he added, "…and I hope you endure at least one of these pains worse than death within your lifetime." Then Buck simply straitened, turned, and walked away. _Just in time too…_ he thought as he wiped off the perspiration from his forehead._ I don't think that would have remained a "friendly argument" for much longer…_

"Buck," Sanya called out to him quietly as she hurried up to him, "I…I think you must either be the best speech-maker I know, or…" She sighed and looked up at him with eyes overflowing with pity. "…You poured out your soul into that speech, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," Buck said wearily.

"So, that was the summation of the feelings of your heart?"

"Something like that…"

"And you were simply making a clumsy, yet primitively successful attempt to protect us from, 'a fate worse than death,' when you killed those…people?"

"That's what I've been saying, whenever someone would listen."

Sanya half-smiled and her eyes grew warm. "So, you were just doing your best to do good?"

Buck sighed, _I think I know where this is going…_ "I guess so…"

"So, you really are a nice boy at heart, but a youth expressing his adolescent desires for justice in the wrong way."

"Well, when you put it like that…"

"But that's okay, Buck," Sanya said patronizingly, "I know how it is to feel as if you must do something on the grander scale for the good of others, but if you would let God do your fighting for you…"

"Look, Sanya," Buck interrupted, almost too tired to speak, "You're right when you say I like to help people. But if you try to tell me that somehow, God will help me protect people without taking any lives, I'm just going to ignore you. I'm the one who warned you what would happen if no one did anything. Well, you all trusted in your God to save you, and look what happened. If and when you decide to tell me I'm right, I'll be over there." Buck guestured towards some grain and gunny sacks, turned, and began shuffling over to them as soon as he finished.

Sanya stared after him, her mouth wide open, for a moment or two, and then yelled, "That's the sort of attitude that resulted in your Exile, Buck. I suggest that you curb it before something horrible happens!"

Buck put his back to one of the sacks and leaned back slowly as he said, "How much do you want to bet that I'll be their last exile?" Sanya didn't say anything to that, but it didn't matter at the moment, because Buck was too busy falling asleep to hear her, or even give the effort to understand her if she had said anything.


	7. Quanah

Chapter VII

Quanah

Buck felt someone nudging him in the ribs. As he slowly fought through the cobwebs of nightmares and dreams, it turned into a poke, and then a kick. "Alright," he mumbled, "I'm up Sergeant. Thanks for waking me. So, who are we going to let through the Gates of Hell today?"

"What?" Rocky asked incredulously, "What did you say about the gates of hell?"

Buck opened one eye and started at Rocky with it for about a minute. Groggily, he pointed an unsteady finger at Rocky and mumbled, "I know you…"

"Yeah, that's right." Rocky kicked him in the leg, saying, "Oh, and by the way, if you haven't guessed yet, genius, we've arrived in Quanah."

"And what time is it now?"

"About three hours after we left," Rocky snapped, "Now grab your bag and hurry up!"

"And who stepped on your toes today?" Buck muttered as he pried his bag out from between two of the grain sacks.

"Those Vietnamese scumbags!" Rocky spat. He looked Buck in the eye as he growled, "I used to thing you were a mad fiend who got his laughs by killing people, hiding behind the excuse that his victims would have been murderers if he had done otherwise. I thought you were the worst kind of man there is." Rocky paused, and looked sad for a moment, then straitened. "I found out the hard way that you were just the second worst. Those men really are murderers and whether you believe in God or not, you dealt his justice to them that day. I heard you predict what would happen in that courtroom and I saw your prediction unfold before my own two eyes." His face hardened as he looked away. "I don't know what you plan on doing, but as for me, I intend to rescue whoever remains. If no one remains alive, I'm going to retrieve their bodies…" Rocky's face softened as he said this last part, but his eyes still retained their firm determination.

_Now, finally, this one's a man._ Buck thought to himself, slightly surprised at Rocky's reaction. _Now let's just hope you become a better man than I, or at least stay a man for a while… _"Rocky, I'm proud to see that you, of all these men have the guts to go back there." Rocky seemed to grow a few inches, while still trying to pretend he was disgusted by the whole matter. "But," Buck continued, "You'd be crazy if you just rushed in there the first chance you got." He slung the pack over his shoulders as he watched Rocky's reaction.

Instead of instantly challenging his judgment, surprisingly, Rocky only sighed and slumped slightly. "Yeah…" he muttered, "I guess for such a large undertaking, I'm going to need a large amount of preparation…yes, all I have to do is come up with some kind of plan…and maybe a boat…"

_What's with this guy? _Buck wondered as he smiled and shook his head. _First, he's ready to lynch me, then the next minute, he's following my advice and actually agreeing with me… I mean, when your one and only home is destroyed along with all the friends and family you've ever known, you start thinking differently but…_ Buck looked at Rocky closely, up and down. Rocky seemed to be patiently and anxiously awaiting Buck's next words. _Oh, I get it, he wants a hero, and I'm the closest thing to a super hero he's seen. And now that he knows I'm fighting for the truth, justice, and the American way, not just for fun, he's ready to accept me. Now he wants his hero's approval before he marches off to war. _"Either that," he muttered to himself in an afterthought, "or I'm just the only hope he's got."

"So, what do you think?" Rocky asked, trying to act tougher than Buck knew he was. "I mean, do you think, in your professional opinion. You know, what would you do in my shoes?"

"Just don't do anything," Buck said shortly, but not sweetly. Rocky's eyebrows furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, but Buck continued, "I would come with you, if for no other reason than it's my job. Still, the truth is that we don't have any weapons or even anyway to get there or any safe way to get there. I don't know about you, but I don't very much like the idea of swimming all the way there, probably with people shooting at us all the way."

Rocky sighed. "I suppose you're right, but I don't want to just sit on my thumbs while some murdering Outlanders desecrate my home.

"Who said you would?" Buck smiled, "I have an idea."

Rocky's expression instantly went from dark and depressed to bright and excited. "Well? What's your idea?"

Buck pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket and started smoothing it out. "Patrick told me that he'd be out shopping for supplies to try and build his tower for the umpteenth time, but something tells me he's going to have to settle down to work some odd job until the Vietnamese leave. Actually, I think he more or less told me that he'd be doing just that. So, I guess that means," Buck said, handing Rocky the envelope, "We still have to deliver this to the Icikoreans."

Rocky looked at it. An address was displayed prominently across the center of the envelope, and in the upper right corner, there was a small note. It read, "Hi, Drew, from Patrick." Rocky's face registered realization as he said the obvious, "It's Patrick's letter!

_No kidding?_ Buck rolled his eyes. "Yes, it is, so now, we have an excuse to go and visit the Icikoreans. Using this letter, we can probably get around a few roadblocks." Buck put an arm around Rocky's shoulders as he continued. "Now, if these Icikoreans have a professional weatherman and a real, honest to goodness meteorologist, they'll probably be advanced enough to have some good, old fashioned fire arms, or something I can make into a make-shift fire arm…"

"I don't know…" Rocky murmured, scratching his chin as Buck led him towards the gangplank. "I don't think you'll be able to get much help if you ask another nation's leaders. People like to call them provinces, but other than allowing free trade and all coming together for the Council of Elders every year, each is an entirely different country. Especially Icikor."

Buck frowned and shook his head as he sighed. He looked Rocky in the eye as he asked, "Do you think anyone here will help us? If you hadn't seen that kind of destruction would you have believed it possible? And if you were a run of the mill Aquinian, would you help two kids you'd never met before who asked you if you'd help them something like that from happening to the rest of the island?"

"Well, I suppose not…" Rocky began. Then he froze, standing stock still as his eyes widened and stared at Buck. "Wait a minute…they would do that again?"

"…and again, and again, and again." Buck sighed, shaking his head before looking at Quanah's sleepy buildings. "…at least, until you run out of cities…" Buck frowned as he continued. "I wonder if they'll bring back slavery if and when they find out they've found an island full of Christians…" Buck looked back at Rocky with a raised eyebrow. "I'm assuming that this is the Christian Isle, right?"

"Yes," Rocky sighed as he massaged the bridge of his nose. "This island's full of the Christians that were outlawed from the Federal States of America. Oh, and the Messianic and a few Amish...but we don't usually count them…"

"Well, to the Vietnamese, they'll count well enough." Buck half led, half followed Rocky towards the ramp. "…not only that, they'll probably create another slave stated, and everyone knows that a country they destroy is better off the the countries they've enslaved. ...Well…." Buck shrugged. "…at least, that's my opinion. I don't know about you. Perhaps death is worse than slavery, but Soldiers are around and cause death so much that they have to hold some other sin as the worst, so we can retain our sanity…" Buck glanced around at Rocky, who was simply slumping with a miserable expression spread across what Buck could see of his face. "…But, that's alright," Buck added hastily, "I mean how long could it take us to get to Icikor?"

"If we push it, and get through the emigration process quickly enough," Rocky said, brightening up a little bit as he walked along, "We could probably make it in a day…"

"Well, then we should be done they can do anything! We'll have gotten these reinforcements and armaments by this time tomorrow!"

"You mean, the day after tomorrow? I mean, since it's too dark to travel at this hour, we'll stay the night somewhere, then we can set out, which will take us one day to reach Icikor, then we have to return, so the earliest time we could be back is the day after…"

"Rocky," Buck sighed and shook his head, as his face broke into a smile. "It's just an expression. Besides, it's already tomorrow, so it'll only take us today to get there, and then we'll be back here tomorrow…"

"At this same time?" Rocky grinned as he raised an eyebrow in a mock imitation of Buck. "Anyway, even if we do get through emigration and to Icikor soon enough, I don't think we'll be able to get through the red tape that quickly." Rocky scratched his chin. "Now that I think of it, we'll probably not get beyond the Borderzone without some help… So far you're the only one who has an excuse to travel beyond province borders, while I'm stuck here. I have the greatest possible confidence in your abilities, but even I don't think that you'd be able to get through all of the obstacles of native politics without losing your temper and…how did you say it… 'blowing someone away' or something of the sort?"

Buck paused for a few moments as he considered this. Then he sighed. "You're telling me we need another?"

"Well, getting more people to join in our…quest…is the whole idea in the first place…"

"Well, yeah but…" Buck started. Suddenly, he got an idea, and his face brightened as a smile appeared. "…Say, we need someone with more than a little knowledge of this island, who has a positive personality, and who is pretty diplomatic by nature… and most importantly, someone who likes to argue a lot… and someone who just happens to be a girl you know very well…" Buck watched Rocky closely, waiting for a reaction. None came. Buck gave Rocky a sour smile and raised an eyebrow as he thought, _Man, you must really be slow, aren't you?_ "…And someone who just happens to be your sister!"

Even though Buck gave him every single clue possible, it took Rocky a few seconds to realize who Buck meant. "Sanya? You mean Sanya?" Rocky asked incredulously. "You can't possibly mean you want to take her along?

Buck shrugged. "Why not? Do you have anyone better in mind? It's not like we have many options, and anyway, it's not like we're asking her to do anything dangerous. She only needs to take us past a few border guards. You should be able to handle the rest after that. And if it comes to fighting…well…I guess I can take care of that…"

"Well…That might work….If somehow Sanya agreed to help us kill off the invading Outlanders…"

"Well…we don't have to tell her we're going to kill them… In fact, we don't have to tell her anything about going back to the island at all. We could tell her we're…gathering signatures for a petition against the Vietnamese or something."

"I don't like the idea of lying to her…" Rocky whined.

"Hey, we don't have to lie…" Buck shrugged. "We could get some people to sign my stationary. After all, you said it had about a thousand pages to it. Then we would be telling the truth."

"Actually, it was closer to one thousand, five hundred…" Rocky muttered.

"…at the same time, we could get some more people on our side, and try to get bigger and better weapons than just our fists and these knives. Actually, if we were able to get any weapons at all, that would surprise me. …and I don't think we'll be able to talk anyone into going, if everyone's about as stubborn as you guys…"

"Yes, I suppose you're right about keeping our true goals secret. It wouldn't be entirely unethical… but it might not be as hard as you think. The Aquinains have become isolationists for the most part, mainly because of the…lack of…pacifists in the other provinces in the other provinces… So we've all but closed our borders to immigration. True, after word gets out that the Aquinian capital was utterly and completely obliterated, a few factions might be uncaring, or even overjoyed, but I'm sure that whoever's in power will be wise enough to see that a threat to Aquinas is a threat upon the entire island."

As they meandered down the ramp, Buck shrugged and said, "Well, you just keep hoping and praying, and I'll do all the fighting. And, if we can convince her, we can just sit back and watch Sanya as she does all the fast talking…" Buck looked him in the eye as he added, "…well…as long as you're careful not to say that part when you talk with her…"

Rocky looked at Buck with a surprised, yet angry look on his face. "I thought you were going to be the one to tell her…"

"Why me?" Buck asked.

"Because she's the one you suggested."

"I may have 'suggested' her, but she's your sister!"

"She may be my sister, but she likes you better!"

"Who do I like better?" Sanya asked, in a cheerful and mischievous voice.

Buck and Rocky looked from their deliberations to see Sanya standing at the foot of the ramp, on her tiptoes, and waving with a broad grin plastered across her face.

"Come on, slowpokes! I found us a ride!" she yelled, cupping a hand to her mouth.

Rocky looked at Buck with a raised eyebrow. "I think I'll believe it when I see it…"

Buck nodded and rolled his eyes, even though he didn't know the reason why. _Whatever. Rocky's in a good mood, so I'll just humor him anyway…_

"Hurry up!" Sanya urged exitidly as she rushed up to them both and grabbed a hand from each of them. "What are you guys doing? I thought you would want to get as far away from this place as humanly possible, as rapidly as possible."

"We were talking…" Rocky said emotionlessly, as he pulled his hand away. "…about a great many sobering things. What happened to you? I had imagined you'd be crying your eyes out in some dark and secluded alley right about now…"

"I would have," Sanya admitted quietly, "But…I realized that mourning for them in my heart will be worth far more than crying for them in some alleyway…"

Buck smiled knowingly as she said this. "…in other words, you're 'mourning for them' so much, that you couldn't find the tears you're supposed to be crying…"

Sanya seemed to get a lump in her throat as she nodded. Then she straitened suddenly, and tried smiling as cheerfully as before. "Now, hurry up, or we'll miss our ride to the Inland Range."

Rocky sighed, and Buck smiled as he let Sanya lead him off the ram, and of the pier. They weaved through a few crowds, who stood about the waterfront, whispering and watching the eastern horizon. A few of the crewmembers of _The Minnow_, the ones who obviously had the higher paying positions, were talking to individuals and whole crowds simultaneously. From the various gasps he heard now and then, Buck could guess what the general topic was.

"Hey, Outlander!" Captain Macgregor bellowed across the dock. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Buck watched him hustle over towards them before answering. "The Inland Range, if none of our plans change…"

"…'Our plans'?" The Captain looked between Buck, Sanya and Rocky. "Don't tell me that all three of yah got Exiled?" Sanya opened her mouth to say something, but Captain Macgregor didn't see, apparently, because he continued, "What in the hell did you do?"

"Well, I'm the only one who actually did anything…" Buck said, hastily as Rocky said something to Sanya, distracting her enough to keep her out of the conversation. "…these two were simply accessories to the crime."

"Yah did nah answer my question." Captain Macgregor gave Buck a scrutinizing glare. "I asked yah what it was yah did tah get yahselves exiled."

_Is it just me, or does this guy keep changing his accent…?_ Buck wondered, _Ah, well…I suppose that's beside the point…_ "Oh, nothing really," Buck replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "…just some trifling crime I seemed to have committed. It was rather insignificant really, but it was most assuredly inconvenient. No doubt, curiosity is eating away at you, so I suppose I'll tell you, even though you won't believe it when I tell you…" Buck paused, his silence punctuated by the Captain's foot tapping on the deck. But, instead of answering, Buck looked up and down the waterfront, and leaned in close. Naturally, Captain Macgregor leaned in close as well, in order to catch what had so peaked his interest. After Buck felt he had drawn out the suspense long enough, and after Rocky started tapping his foot, Buck whispered, "I was exiled for slaying twenty –three Vietnamese soldiers who were trying to kill me."

The captain, who seemed as if he was going to tell Buck off should the explanation prove unsatisfactory, immediately swallowed back whatever words he was about to say, and swore softly under his breath, his posture and expression frozen in time. "You…You're a…manslayer?" he stammered. "You…Killed…twenty-three…people?"

"Well, there's a big difference…" Buck thought for a minute. "I'd actually call it self defense, since they were trying to kill me first." Buck looked the captain in his empty eyes as he fearfully stammered on. "So, how long do we have until you start acting against us, or until you enforce the exile, or whatever it is you're supposed to do?"

"Seven days…" the captain managed to say drearily. "Seven days until the Exile posters go up…or at least, seven days after I deliver your poster to the proper officials…"

_So that's what that loon had wanted. For a while there, I thought he had been drawing me thought I was cute or something. Still, a teenager like that? Both a courtroom chronicler and an artist/wanted-poster-maker? That's a strange combination…but I guess someone had to do it… _"Well, thank you!" Buck said semi-cheerfully as he started walking back down the gangplank. It was also around this time that Rocky conveniently got done talking with Sanya about something.

Sanya looked up suddenly when the Captain turned and started staggering away. "Wait!" she shouted, "Captain! Wait! I need to tell you something!"

"…could have murdered us all in our beds…" Captain Macgregor murmured, massaging his chin wearily.

"Buck," Sanya whined, turning back to him and pouting. "Why did you have to go and do such a thing as that?"

Buck looked over at Rocky, since he had really been the one to keep Sanya from speaking up. Somehow, Rocky was conveniently looking the other way. _Fine, I'll deal with Sanya, but you owe me one!_ "Well…Sanya…" Buck put his hands in his pockets as he thought up a half truth, half lie. "Rocky wants to come with me to this Inland Range, so I'm guessing that, perhaps, if he was thought to be an Exile, he'd be able to emigrate more quickly. You know, blow through all the red tape by pretending he's supposed to be somewhere else…"

"So, why did you have to involve me?" Sanya asked, angrily eyeing Buck through the corner of her eye.

"Well…" he paused, trying to think f the right way of saying what he meant. "…We were hopeful that perhaps you would like to come with us…would you?"

"What reason would there be for me to come along?" she asked, trying to mimic Rocky in the way that he raised an eyebrow and scratched his chin as he said, "Hmm…"

"Well…nothing really…" Buck shrugged. "We just thought that since you…well…you and your family's never been off of the island before, right? That means you don't really have any friends over here…right? Well, then, we thought that it might be nice to stay together, you know…" Buck gestured and looked over at Rocky. "Rocky and I talked, and we thought it would be nice to tour the Island…you know, visit all the countries or provinces or whatever you call them…" Buck turned back to Sanya, and noticed that her eyes were beginning to narrow. "…and if we could get some signatures together…Perhaps we could create a petition to go along with them or something…and we could mail it to the Vietnamese…" Buck turned away, and scratched his neck ostensibly, to hide his grimace from Sanya. _Man, _he thought,_ she's never going to believe that. I blew it. I don't think anyone's enough of an idiot to believe that kind of story…_

He turned back to Sanya, and was surprised to see her stroking her chin. "You know…that might work…" Sanya said, her voice trailing off thoughtfully. However, after a moment or two of deliberation, she shook her head and continued. "…but regardless, we shall **have** to have a way to get to the Inland Range. We have to get there first, before we may begin collecting signatures. So saying, Sanya grabbed Buck's hand once more, and started to guide him through the city. _Man alive!_ He thought to himself as he weaved between a few barrels, _if that last city was built and colored like the white house, then this must be the white house, when it's surrounded in an ocean of warehouses…and smells… The Capital's buildings seemed to be all colored with white and brown. However, this city, Quanah, seems to have a little color mixed in with the awnings and the occasional brick house…I think they're brick… They're either brick or tile-plated houses…_

Suddenly, Buck's train of thought was broken by the sound a familiar voice, or rather, by the sound of a familiar indignant whine. "I'm telling you, they're not friends of mine,' P.J.'s voice came from across the square, "Let's just leave them here, and go to your house. You don't have to pay them any mind, Uncle Zack…"

"You will have time enough to become friends with them, Peter," an unfamiliar voice replied, "…and secondly, please remember that I prefer to be called Mr. Johnson. If you must, then you can refer to me as 'uncle Johnson,' But you may never, under any circumstances, address me by my first name." Mr. Johnson's voice became a small bit softer as he added, "…And third, I want you to know that I do not treat my guests in such a way. Neither should you, for that matter."

"She's not our guest until she comes home with us…" P.J. grumbled.

"You don't quite have it right. She becomes my guest when I offer to take her to my home, not when she reaches my home."

"Well, either way, it's too late to bolt now…" P.J. muttered, as Buck finally spotted him through the crowd. "…here they are…"

Sanya broke through the last ring of people, and Buck got his first good look at Mr. Johnson. _Dark hair…common brown eyes…common height…about 6 foot…one to two inches…late 30's in age, perhaps early 40's…blue dyed robe with yellow/gold trim… Well, if I lose sight of him, at least the robe will let me find him again. I doubt any of the locals usually go about in such colorful clothes…_

"Well, it seems as though our mysterious messenger has finally returned, along with the companions she described. …One Rocky, and a Buck, if I'm not mistaken…and very seldom am I.

"A pleasure, sir," Rocky said with a bold smile, which lost some of its cheer the moment Rocky touched Mr. Johnson's hand.

_Wonder what all that was about…?_ Buck wondered as he offered his hand to Mr. Johnson. The hand itself wasn't bad, or gnarly, but when Buck touched him, he felt as though he were holding the hands of a dead man. _Ha, he literally feels like death warmed over…_ The chuckle stuck in Buck's throat as he met Mr. Johnson's eyes. _Those eyes…I've seen them before. Those are the eyes of a man who would defy all authority but his own. He might not be yet willing to do it openly, but I'm guessing this guy is really a mobster of some sort or another… Didn't Captain Macgregor say something..? …Something about how this guy owned the contracts to all of the shops and bazaars in this town? That in itself can't be such a small feat, even in such a town as this. If he hasn't already, I'm betting he's going to use that to his advantage to begin other takeovers. Legally, or not…_ All of these thoughts had come and gone by the time he was done shaking Mr. Johnson's hand.

"Apparently, you share none of your friend's apprehension," Mr. Johnson told Buck as he smiled and withdrew his hand. "…but, I suppose that should not have been a difficult thing for an Outlander."

Buck shrugged. "There's not much that's too difficult for me."

The ends of Mr. Johnson's thin smile twitched upwards for a moment or two, then resumed its polite, but stoic appearance. "No doubt," Mr. Johnson stepped to one side, and gestured towards a cart and horse. "You all, no doubt, are very tired form the journey, not to mention all the excitement you've experienced or the fact that it's almost four in the morning."

"Thank you, kind sir," Sanya said, giving the Aquinian equivalent of a curtsey.

"Yes, thank you," Rocky echoed, bowing stiffly and slightly, keeping his worried eyes either upon Sanya or Mr. Johnson. It was mostly the latter, and with worried eyes.

"Yeah, thanks Mr. Johnson. You're a life saver…" Buck said, tilting his head slightly, and his torso even less.

"Oh, you needn't go that far…" Mr. Johnson said, smiling and waving off Buck's comment, and bowing his head in acknowledgement of Sanya and Rocky's polite gestures. However, his emotions remained unreadable. "Then, shall we retire for the evening…or rather, for the morning?"

P.J. grumbled something under his breath as they walked over to the wagon. Mr. Johnson swung aboard the driver's seat, where he gave P.J. a harsh and reprimanding glare. Buck, Sanya, and Rocky climbed into the back. Rocky was kind enough to help P.J. up and over the back tailgate. As soon as the boy was aboard, however, he scrambled over the buckboard and into the seat beside Mr. Johnson.

As they started to move, and quickly gain speed, Rocky, Sanya and Buck sat down. As soon as he had taken off his knapsack, and placed it between his legs, he joined Rocky in looking at Sanya with narrowed eyes.

Sanya looked from Buck to Rocky, and back again. "About what are you so concerned?" Sanya asked, smiling innocently as usual.

"And who is this Mr. Johnson?" Rocky asked, crossing his arms, even as his eyebrow stood erect. "Did you just now meet him on the street or something?"

"Oh, no," Sanya laughed, dismissing Rocky's seriousness with a wave of the hand. "Mr. Johnson is P.J.'s uncle. When P.J. came off of the dock, I followed him. P.J. went to that one shop where Mr. Johnson works, and after P.J. found him, they started talking to each other in hushed voices. I failed to get close enough to them in order to figure out what they were discussing, but I suppose it would be impolite of me…especially since we had never met… Anyway, even after seeing P.J. in such a state, Mr. Johnson, who probably noticed me even then, was never phased by this. I just waited, and listened, as they conversed, and started to realize that Mr. Johnson had been so NOT-surprised at P.J.'s arrival, that I thought that he might have known something about the attack which we didn't. So, I just went up to them, to ask Mr. Johnson if he had heard something. When I had gotten within a few feet, Mr. Johnson asked me who I was, and what I wanted. I answered truthfully, telling him that I was called Sanya, and that I was a school-mate, and even classmate of P.J., which also failed to surprise him. However, when I told him that I had a friend who needed to get out of Aquinis, then he looked interested." Sanya scratched her head and frowned. "I think he said something about being happy t do business, and he even started smiling at that point in the conversation. When I told him how Buck had been exiled because he had killed twenty-three Outlander soldiers, shortly before the obliteration of the capital, he seemed to get even happier. It was strange though, because he kept saying, 'that's too bad...' and then he'd shake his head a few times, even though he was happy. Anyway, he said if we needed a ride, all we had to do was come along with him on one of his supply runs."

_Something tells me that my first impression of the guy may have been the right one,_ Buck thought dryly, gazing off into space. _Something tells me that he's not your average, peace-loving Aquinian._

"Alright we're here," Mr. Johnson said cheerfully as the wagon slowed to a stop.

Buck looked up, surprised. _Either Sanya's story took longer than I thought, or Mr. Johnson lives pretty close to the shore. I didn't really think that was possible, considering the way every store, warehouse, and dry dock was packed together, as if there was no space to be had. _As he looked around, it seemed as if Mr. Johnson lived at the Western edge of town, and that the rest of the town spread Northwest, and Southeast, along the shoreline. _I guess it's the former…_

"Now, be careful," Mr. Johnson warned, keeping his voice low, "The womenfolk are all asleep, and I would prefer it if you would do your best to make sure they remain so."

Rocky and Sanya nodded, and said, "Yes, sir."

Buck grunted his agreement, and his understanding.

P.J. hopped off the wagon, and waved lazily without even looking back. "Don't worry; I'll be as quiet as a mouse."

"I'll have to talk with that boy in the morning…" Mr. Johnson muttered in a barely audible voice as he watched P.J. walk brazenly up to the front door, open it, and not catch it as it slammed shut. Mr. Johnson then turned his attention to Rocky and Sanya. "You two can enter the guest wing through the side door, to the left of the main doors."

They all nodded, and Rocky and Sanya climbed out of the wagon. Buck swung his pack onto his shoulders and started towards the door, which Mr. Johnson had indicated.

"Buck," Mr. Johnson called, as he put a hand on Buck's shoulder, "Would you help me put away the horse and cart?"

"Sure…" Buck said hesitantly, "I suppose that's the least I can do…probably the best I can do too… I mean, you did let us ride in your wagon, and you're letting us sleep in your house, so it's not like I could refuse…" _Still, you could have asked Rocky to do this… Did you want me specifically, or am I just really that unlucky?_

Mr. Johnson smiled, and even showed some teeth, which was unusual. Then he turned around, and gave the horse a slap across the rum with the reins. "I'm sure any reasonable man in my position would have done the same." They made a U-turn, and backtracked for a few yards, then turned left, off of the cobblestone and onto a gravel road. Almost no light penetrated the darkness surrounding the stables, but Buck could see two small lanterns hung on either side of the doorposts. The double doors were open, so Mr. Johnson drove right through them. Once inside, he hopped down from the driver's seat, and went to close them. As he closed them, he told Buck, "Pull the spike on the cart tongue…the one holding the leather straps from the harnesses…and lead the horses further back, and to the left. That's where we hang the harnesses…"

Buck did as he was asked, and realized as he did so, that this was the first time, outside of a petting zoo, that he had been this close or even seen a horse. "So...what was it that you don't want Rocky or Sanya to hear?"

Mr. Johnson laughed a harsh, guttural laugh that Buck heard even over the grinding and slamming of the double doors. "You certainly are perceptive…" Mr. Johnson said, shaking his head as he walked over by the cart. "I suppose if you weren't, you wouldn't survive long in your profession."

"And what profession is that?" Buck asked cautiously. _He might be fishing…so I can't offer any information…_

"You are a professional killer, that much is certain," Mr. Johnson said, his voice suddenly becoming sharp and cold as ice. "But, are you the stuff of a police officer, who is determined to do everything he can to promote the general welfare? Are you a soldier through and through, following duty and honor above all else? Or are you perhaps a mercenary, who will do anything for a price?"

_Well…I don't have to tell him anything…or agree to anything…perhaps I'll just tell him a half-truth…like my Granddad used to do… _"I believe Mark Twain said it best when he said, "I have my principles, but I find that principles have no real force except when one is well fed."

"Ah, a mercenary." Mr. Johnson showed his teeth in a thin smile once again, and continued, "Good. Now you and your friends can leave this place alive."

_Regular ball of sunshine, isn't he? _Buck grimaced, _The trouble is, I think he means it… What have I gotten myself into?_

"I may have a few jobs for you. One in particular actually. After that job, you will be my hand of death. With you at my disposal, I shall strike down my competition, and strike fear into the hearts of my allies and subordinates. Together, we can create a commercial empire, which will help us take over the actual governments after it spans the entire…"

"Not that I don't enjoy your monologue," Buck interrupted, "But you said something about a job? Could you give me any specifics? Like what the pay is like?"

"You are a mercenary all right," Mr. Johnson grinned again. "Part soldier, part businessman." Then the smile disappeared as he paused.

_Actually, I would loved to have heard the end of your monologue, emperor Palpitine, but if I'm supposed to be a mercenary, this is the part I'm going to play, and I'm going to have to stay in character._

_"Ten acres a year. Prime land."_

_What? You're trying to pay me with land? Oh, perhaps it's the amount of money it takes to buy ten acres of land…prime land that is…Well, I do hope it's the latter, but anyway you look at it, I've still got to stay in character. _"Twenty."

"Fifteen."

"Done." Remember, around these kinds of guys, a greedy man is a dead man.

"And one hundred and fifty when you're done." Mr. Johnson flashed his smile again, as he continued, "So hurry up and finish this job, and there may be an equally profitable job waiting for you when you get back."

"Any other specifics?" Buck asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "Like…oh, I don't know…like what the hell I'm supposed to be doing that's worth one hundred and fifty acres worth of prime land!"

"Later." Mr. Johnson gestured towards a side door, as if to tell Buck he was dismissed.

Buck shrugged and nodded, and then exited through the side door. _Damned strange, if you ask me…_ Buck thought t himself as he walked along the gravel road back to the house. _Still, this just might be the kind of thing I need in order to destroy an entire Vietnamese Super Destroyer… _Buck stopped and looked over his shoulder as Mr. Johnson as he locked the door behind them. Buck allowed him to catch up and pass him before continuing on, both with his feet, and with his train of thought. _I had better watch this guy. I still have no idea what this guy wants me to do. For all I know, he may want me to become an assassin or massacre an entire city for no apparent reason whatsoever. Then again…_ Buck brooded upon this, on his way through the maze and myriad of rooms in the guest wing. Buck brooded upon this as he suddenly felt all the exhaustion from the day accumulating. He didn't even make it to the bed before he stumbled and fell, and fell asleep on the floor, in the first guestroom he found.

It was pitiful. _This isn't a town that resisted us. They probably didn't even resent us. They never knew what had hit them, and we didn't even stop long enough to learn the name of the town we bombarded, or even the name of this island. …We still don't know…. No, all that we knew at the time was that twenty-three of our promising young men died here, and for that, an entire city had to die. What a waste of life…_ Su-Jin shuffled sadly through the ashes of the city, kicking a stone out of his way every so often. Every time he heard shots, and every time he thought he heard shots, he visibly flinched. He knew full well what was happening. The only reason he was on land at all was because some of the men had complained about not having anything else to shoot. A few men were kind enough to be digging shallow mass graves for the dead, but for the most part, the men were either relaxing or shooting at a crude range someone had erected. It was likely that some would use the bodies of the dead for target practice until someone decided to take them to the mass grave. More still were scribbling graffiti on the jet black cliffs, probably giving the battle more than a dozen names, and writing more 'glorious accounts' of the battle by the second. Su-Jin walked up to a small mound of ashes and kicked it. The ashes flew into the air into a great dust cloud, revealing a small wooden boat. It was wider in the center than a canoe, but just as long, with a point on both sides. A few of the boards had cracked and splintered along with one of the points. _Now, I have something in which to drown my tears, _he thought, smiling softly. _Don't worry, child, I'll make sure you are repaired soon._

Su-Jin looked around the beach, and spotted a few sailors just sleeping on the beach. Actually, he only spotted their boots, sticking out from beneath a large army blanket. "You two," he barked as gruffly as he could, kicking one of the boots, "Organize a work detail, and start mapping the entire east coast of the larger island. Take note of any resources that might be used for the construction of fortifications, especially wood…" Su-Jin waited with his arms crossed for a response. When he didn't get one, he kicked the other pair once and the first pair twice. "Did you two hear me?" he asked, raising his voice.

The two men peeled the blanket away from their faces, revealing tussled hair and sleepy eyes. One wiped the sleep from his eyes while the other said, "Yeah, we heard you." He sighed and stretched. "I was just hoping you weren't addressing us."

Su-Jin frowned at him, trying to look fierce, but not being able to completely succeed. _Perhaps he just wants to forget everything that happened… just sleep away this nightmare, and sleep right through it…_ Su-Jin tipped his head to one side and looked the fellow up and down. His Standard was good, but it didn't have the accent that most Asians did. In fact, now that he looked the fellow over again, he looked more like a cross between an Irishman and a Spaniard, which was rare indeed. Especially in the Vietnamese army. "What's your name?" Su-Jin asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

"Dego," the soldier said, brushing the sand from his reddish, orange hair. Once he was done, he squinted up at Su-Jin, with one eye squinting as he finished with, "Dego, Flamron."

"Well, Dego, you can sleep tonight," Su-Jin growled, not even trying to conceal a smile. "Right now, however, we need some wood, so get to it."

"Um, sir," the second soldier said, raising a hand uncertainly. "Why do you want us to find some and get some wood?"

"Because wood is easier to transport by water than stone," Su-Jin said quickly, barely even glancing at the soldier. "However, should you find a rock quarry on this or that island," Su-Jin pointed in the mainland's general direction, "then feel free to mine it and transport it back here all by yourselves." Su-Jin then turned away, gesturing without looking back as he said, "Whichever you do it's your choice."

"So, have you vented all your anger out on these two draftees, or are you going to find some more?"

Su-Jin whirled around in an instant. "Hajime, how long have you been watching?"

"Long enough…" Hajime laughed as Su-Jin's face burst into a worried expression. "Don't worry," he chuckled, "I won't tell a soul that you were nice. You were just giving two bored soldiers something to do, right? And you're going to start building some sort of camp, so the men don't have to live in tents for five months right?"

"Well…something like that…" Su-Jin sighed, and tried to rub the tension from his neck. "Thanks. You know you always see me doing something frowned upon by the captain, and then you enjoy me sweating bullets until you finally promise me that you won't tell on me."

Hajime shrugged. "I guess you're just lucky." Then his warm smile disappeared. "I need you now, anyway, so turning you in would do me no good."

Su-Jin became miserable once more. "What do you need me to do?" he sighed.

"I myself don't really need you to do anything. The captain wants you to build an antenna large enough to reach the Asian mainland, and a powerful enough transmitter. Probably to request new orders."

Su-Jin sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, and probably to request re-enforcements, along with his own private war down here…"

"You can bet your life on it."

Buck opened his eyes slowly. Beyond a large blur in the center of his vision, there was a white ceiling with a pleasing design made up of small colored tiles. To his right, the sun was streaming in through the window, and to his left was the bed. Once his eyes came into focus, he also identified what was no more than five inches from his face. It was a foot. _Well,_ Buck thought, _Sanya's a morning person, if I remember correctly. So that means that this foot must belong to Rocky…_ Buck grabbed the big toe and tugged on it. "C'mon, time to get up!" he mumbled, even though he stayed where he was, sprawled out on the floor. "I'm not sure when they're going to serve breakfast, but I have a feeling that we're going to be late if we don't get a move on…"

"Who's tugging on my foot?" came a muffled and obviously sleepy groan from the bed.

"Buck Goodwin…you know, tall, good-looking kid who was exiled from your island…and if you don't remember me after that, then you've got a memory problem." _Then again, I don't suppose Rocky's the sharpest knife in the…he isn't the smartest person in the world when he first wakes up._

There was a slight pause, then a high pitched voice asked, "Who's Buck Goodwin?" This time, the voice was not muffled.

"I am," Buck said, automatically. Then his flashy comeback was forgotten, as he suddenly thought, _Wait a minute, Rocky doesn't have a high-pitched voice…_ Buck's eyes widened and he snapped totally awake just as two wide-opened, green eyes appeared over the edge of the bed. "Who the hell are you?" Buck asked in a squeaky, high-pitched voice of his own. He could not keep a certain level of stress and panic out of his voice as he asked the question.

The green-eyed face looked down at Buck, the eyes just over the edge of the bed. However, he didn't have to look at the rest of the face to guess the expression, not with how wide and scared those eyes were. After a few seconds of silence, it was pulled back suddenly and Buck heard it yell, "Burglar!" very loudly.

"Now, wait just one second…" Buck said, quickly getting to his feet, and edging towards the door. _I know I've been invited to stay here, by the owner himself, but I'm going to get the heck out of here if this bird starts throwing stuff._

Rocky came barreling through the door just about at the same time Buck reached it. As Buck had expected, Rocky came in groggily, with his hair in a mess, and minus his pants. He did, however have a loincloth on, thankfully. Buck just watched as Rocky tripped over his outstretched foot, and crashed into the foot of the bed. The green-eyed girl scrambled to get out of Rocky's way, and she barely made it before Rocky fell face down, right where her legs had been. "Ah!" she yelled from her perch at the head of the bed, as she kicked Rocky's head, "Another burglar!"

"Hey!" Rocky objected, his head cleared by the fury of pummels aimed at his cranium. "I am not a burglar!'

"Who's shouting, and for what reason?" Sanya asked as she walked into the room. She was, as opposed to Rocky, not only fully clothed, but also eating breakfast, a plate of food in one hand, and a utensil in the other.

"Hi, Sanya," Buck sighed, shaking his head. "Do you think you could have told me that there was a girl sleeping in this room before I got here?"

"Well…" Sanya shrugged, "I think I was asleep when you were finally done and decided to come here and go to bed. Besides, I had no idea she was here."

"Three Burglars!" the green-eyed girl yelled, but with less volume as her fear began to fade, and her curiosity began to intensify. "What's going on?"

"I'm not burglar silly," Sanya couldn't help but smile and giggle, "and neither are they. Mr. Johnson was just gracious enough to allow us to sleep here last night. He was also generous in his offer to take us to the Inland Range later today." Sanya looked over at Buck and Rocky. "Well…I hope you guys are well enough, and not too sore, to get breakfast."

It was then that Buck noticed the smell of scrambled eggs.

"Eggs…" Rocky half sighed, half moaned in pleasure. He got up and floated dreamily out the door, following his nose towards the heavenly scent.

"Well, Sanya, since you've already had breakfast," Buck said, as he backed up through the doorway, "so you can talk with this…lady…while I go and get some…"

"I'm not letting you get away so easily," the 'Lady' snapped, hopping off the bed and swaggering over to Buck. "For all I know, you could be some psychopathic mass murderer who's currently hiding from the law."

_Well, she's half right… Perhaps it was a lucky guess…perhaps not._ "Well, maybe I am, and maybe I'm not," Buck shrugged, "but either way, I'm going to go get myself some breakfast." With that, Buck slid behind the door, and followed Rocky's example. However, instead of floating down the halls like Rocky, Buck strode down the hall at a fast canter.

"Hey!" the green-eyed girl shouted after him, "I'm not done with you quite yet!"

Buck ignored her. _Who can just stand around talking when they can't hear themselves over their own growling stomach…actually, it's more like stomachs, in my case…_ Buck turned right from the room, then right down a corridor, then right down another corridor, then left, then right… He had just lost count of the turns when he found himself in a large dining area, with Mr. Johnson, P.J., and Rocky sitting at an enormous table that nearly spanned the entire room.

"Ah, Buck," Mr. Johnson said with an air of mild surprise, "Perhaps you would be so kind to tell me what all that shouting was that I heard just now."

"Daddy!" Buck heard the high-pitched voice yell again, "Where are you?"

"In the dining area, Cassie," Mr. Johnson called back

The green-eyed girl, identified as Cassie, rushed past Buck, towards Mr. Johnson. "Father, who are all these people? Is it true you took them in as guests? You should tell them to leave! Why, that one," she pointed and glared at Buck, while blushing profusely, "even slept in the same room as I." She ostensibly shivered. "There's no telling what he might have done…"

Mr. Johnson glance over at Buck, his eyes momentarily flashing, but he instantly regained his usual calm demeanor as he turned back to Cassie. "I suppose that was a failing on my part. I told them that they could sleep in the guest wing, but I failed to tell them that you occasionally liked to sleep in the various rooms."

"So, I guess that means that, since you really did let them into the house as guests, I have to let them stay…" Cassie mumbled, more than a little embarrassed. "I suppose that means that you're also taking them to the Inland Range with you, on your business trip, isn't that so?"

Mr. Johnson just sighed as he propped his head up with his hand. "Yes, Cassie, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take you too. I've already told you before, you're not old enough."

"…but father, I'm nearly sixteen!"

"Your birthday's not for two more months. I would hardly call that, 'Almost.'"

"Mom does!"

"Her definition of 'almost' differs from mine, obviously. If you want to ride with me, you'll have to abide by my translation of the word. In my dictionary, almost would be by a few hours, or perhaps even minutes." Mr. Johnson then gave her a glance that meant, "This conversation is over."

"So, why are you helping these people?" Cassie asked grumpily, "I mean, the girl's obviously younger than I, even if she's a bit taller…and the boy can't be much older than I … Are you planning upon hiring them?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she gave Mr. Johnson a suspicious glare.

Rocky looked up, his mouth full of a bite of breakfast burrito, when he heard the word, "hiring."

"No," Mr. Johnson said, glancing over at Rocky's reaction, and cutting it short, as he said the word. "I've already done all the hiring I intend to do this year."

_Nicely done,_ Buck smiled to himself, y_ou dodged the question and you didn't tell a lie, and you did it quickly…without breaking a sweat or a smile._

"Fine," Cassie huffed, "I suppose that I can wait for another two months. If I'm lucky, I might live that long!" She turned on her heel, and stomped off through one of the various doors lining the dining room.

Buck winced as Cassie slammed the door behind her. "What does **that** mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Mr. Johnson sighed, waving off the comment with one hand as he massaged the bridge of his nose with the other. "It just means she's going to either going to get bored to death…or she's going to commit suicide."

Rocky coughed up his burrito back onto his plate. "What?" he cried in a raspy voice, "Shouldn't you be rushing to stop her?"

Mr. Johnson shrugged. "I don't see why. She's overdue, seeing as she's been threatening to do it for the past five years now. Personally, I have no idea when she's going to get around to committing suicide…"

"…oh…" Rocky murmured. He went back to eating the breakfast burrito he had coughed up, much to Buck's distaste, as Mr. Johnson got up.

"I should be ready in a few minutes," Mr. Johnson declared, in a tone more serious than usual. He walked over to the coat rack in the corner as he continued, "You should eat and gather your things. I don't plan on waiting for long." He pulled off a coat and put it on as he headed out one of the doors.

"I just hope we can find our way out of this labyrinth in time…" Buck muttered under his breath. He looked back at the door he had come through, and then walked over to the wall farthest from it. _…North…I think…_ Buck opened the first door he came to, and found a large hallway, leading to what he assumed to the front door. _Well, I guess I've found the way out… Now I just have to remember it…_ He traveled a few yards down to the next door and looked through it. As far as he could see, besides a small table and two wing backed chairs, the entire room was filled with book cases. Even the walls had been converted in order to house more books, and were in the process of being stuffed. _I suppose it might be interesting to look through here…but I'm hungry right now, and I don't want to get left behind…" _On the third and last door along this wall, Buck found the kitchen. There, a woman was holding a rather large skillet over a wood-burning stove. Actually, it looked more like a brick oven than anything else. The woman had been humming a tune, but she stopped when Buck poked his head in and asked "Excuse me? May I come in?"

"Hmm?" she turned her head to look at Buck. "Oh, you must be that other strange boy…Buck, right? You're just in time for the next batch!" As she said the last few words, she stirred the contents of the pan one last time before heaping and scraping the stir-fried eggs into a bowl. She handed Buck the bowl and smiled as she handed him two chopsticks.

"Thanks…" Buck said, putting forth a forced smile. "It smells delicious!" _Yeah, it smells nice, but how am I supposed to eat it? Chopsticks haven't been used in the U.S. since the war began!"_

"I'm Mrs. Johnson, in case you were wondering, and hadn't guessed already," she said, extending her hand.

Buck shifted the bowl from his right hand to his left. "Nice to meet you..." Mrs. Johnson just stood there, smiling. _What? You want me to eat this in front of you? You do, don't you…got to find a way to distract her… So I don't look like a complete retard…_ "Erm…so, what do you think about Mr. Johnson's business?"

"Oh, it's not entirely his…" she corrected, her face breaking out of her smile as she began to act more casual. "I run about half of the business, and do most of the accounting…"

"Oh. So, does Mr. Johnson actually do the buying and selling?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" she said while rolling her eyes. "He just loves to ride around the country on bumpy roads, buying and selling merchandise for over fifty shops or so."

"Um, are you being sarcastic?" Buck asked, even though he knew the answer. _If I can just keep her talking… _"I'm sorry, but I think I might be misunderstanding you…Ma'am…"

"I…I was…" she replied, her voice softening at the word "Ma'am" and with the barest hint of a sigh. "I'm sorry… In a way, Mr. Johnson does buy and sell everything, but only from a manager's position. That is, he writes letters to the staffs of the various shops and bazaars, and they purchase goods at the requested price and in the requested qualities..." Mrs. Johnson paused, and her eyes became vacant. After a few moments, she finally shrugged. "…or at least, that's the way it's supposed to be. I've never actually seen what Mr. Johnson does. This is supposed to be according to supply and demand laws, and help expand the business, shunt the growth of competitors…that sort of thing. However, for some reason, Mr. Johnson's been buying up the beef industry in the Inland Range …that's where he's going, right?... and I've assumed that he's just trying to cut out the middle man by obtaining the properties and herds of the best beef-producing ranches. Well, I suppose that's also his job…finding new markets and diversifying our investments…"

"How does Mr. Johnson go about…erm…'finding new markets'?"

"Well, I'm not sure," Mrs. Johnson admitted, scratching the back of her neck, "but I do know that he gets very grouchy when he doesn't get his way."

_Well…That was an interesting conversation…Perhaps It will be worth the time it took…Nah, probably not…_ "Well, er…I should be going, so do you have a container I can take with me…?"

"Oh, you can just take the bowl. I'll talk to Paul and Harvey."

"Who's Paul Harvey?"

` "They're the guards," Mrs. Johnson replied, matter-of-factly, "…Well…they're more like Mr. Johnson and my personal body guards. Mr. Johnson usually asks Harvey to do things for him, and I ask Paul to help around the house in his spare time. Every once in a while, I'll ask Harvey to do something, and Mr. Johnson gives Paul instructions about this and that…I'm not really sure what…"

"Okay…" Buck replied as he backed up. He became even more nervous when he backed into something big, hairy, and immovable.

Buck looked up into the stubble of the man's beard, as he rumbled, "That's alright, Mrs. Johnson. I heard you." The thing looked down on Buck with eyes somewhere between the size of golf-balls and hand-grenades. "If you wish to travel with Master Johnson, young sir, you had better hurry. He's almost ready to travel at this very moment, and if he has not already left, he will soon."

"Oh, thank you…sir…" Buck said, politely, as he side-stepped three times to the right in order to get out of the man's shadow. Then he turned and sprinted as fast as he dared without spilling his breakfast.

Buck navigated the narrow passages, and burst through the front door. As Paul had said, there was the cart, coming down the gravel road from the stables. Rocky and Sanya were already aboard and Mr. Johnson was driving. _Which means they're not going to stop…CRAP!_ Buck hurried as fast as he could, spilling some of the fried something or other as he once again patted himself for sleeping fully clothed and in his running shoes. He ran so fast and hard, his ribs began to burn, but his efforts had put him within touching distance of the cart. Sanya was holding out a hand, and saying something, but Buck couldn't hear over the sound of his own heavy breathing. Neither Rocky nor Mr. Johnson seemed to pay Buck any mind. Buck leaped, and as his feet found the back step on the cart, the cart jolted. Apparently the gravel road had joined up with the flagstones, but Buck hadn't noticed. Buck flailed around with one hand, as he tossed the bowl towards Sanya.

Sanya juggled the bowl a few times, before gaining possession over it. She had been in the process of lending Buck a helping hand, but couldn't do a thing when Buck needed her most.

Buck would have fallen, but the tailgate was up. Throwing his right foot up and over it, he was able to use it to steady himself, and pull himself into the cart.

Rocky came over and grabbed the stir-fry out of Sanya's hands, which allowed her to help Buck haul himself aboard.

"Why didn't you help him?" Sanya snapped, snatching the bowl from Rocky and giving it back to Buck.

"I was…" Rocky grumbled, "I was just letting you have the honor … plus I'm hungrier than you are… Good thing I've got a dinner coming to me…"

"What are you talking about?" Buck asked hoarsely, after finally catching his breath.

"Sanya made a bet with me that I'd be the last person aboard, and you wouldn't even make it to the cart."

"Sanya!" Buck moaned, "Thanks for the vote of confidence!"

"Look at it this way…" Sanya said hastily, "At least we can be all glad that I was wrong…"

"Yeah…" Buck grumbled, "but I left the knapsack back at the house…"

"You what?" Rocky exclaimed. "Do you know how expensive that was?"

"Never fear, because Sanya is with you!" She laughed ad pulled the knapsack from behind a rainbarrel.

Buck took it from her hands gently, then hastily went through it. "You left everything behind but the stationary!" he groaned.

"Well," Sanya huffed crossly, "You could have just said, 'Thank you Sanya, for bringing my knapsack at all'!"

Buck sighed. "I suppose so…Sanya, how about you be the first to sign it?"

"Really?" Sanya cried, cheering up immediately. "Where do I sign?" she asked, as Buck handed her his pen.

_Considering that's the only pen I've got…I'd better keep it safe… _"I guess you can just sign the front page…"

"Okay…Here I go…" She bit her bottom lip, as she wrote:

"You didn't have to sign it in the complete center of the page…" Rocky grumbled.

"Well, you can sign wherever you want now!" Sanya muttered. "As for me, I saw no reason to do otherwise."

Rocky just sighed as he signed his name:

"I suppose," Buck sighed, "Since Rocky signed his name to the left of Sanya's…for the sake of symmetry…I'll write my name over here…" So, Buck signed his name to the right of the page:

Buck Goodwin

He did the best he could, considering that he was riding in a bumpy cart all the while. "So, what now?" he asked, as he started to close the book. He stopped, and opened the book again, however, when he spotted a small note running along the binding, almost invisible unless you laid the book out flat. It read, "You people are pretty weird, you know that? Thanks for visiting me! "

_So that's why my knapsack moved while I was aboard _The Minnow_… Patrick must have done this while I was asleep…that Patrick!_ Buck smiled as he finally closed the book and put it, along with the pen, into the knapsack. He waited, and looked up for someone to say something. When no-one else did, he asked, "Well, what do you guys want to do now?"

"I don't know..." Rocky shrugged.

"I do!" Sanya cried, happily and hastily. Standing up in the cart, she struck a heroic pose, and shouted, "Here we go! Off to the Inland Range!"

_Don't you mean, 'Off to Neverland"?_ Buck wondered to himself.

Then the cart hit a stone, and lurched precariously to one side. Sanya would have fallen over the tailgate, if it wasn't for Buck and Rocky's quick thinking. "Sanya!" they cried in unison, as they pulled her back into the cart

"My apologies!" she laughed, "I just am so very excited!"


End file.
